


And a Bottle of Rum

by Eternallost



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Pirates, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Smut, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 04:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 27,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternallost/pseuds/Eternallost
Summary: "Ten years was an awfully long time. Was she the wife of a naval man? No. She could never have pictured it. If she had, she would have dashed her dreams for the commodore. Would William really expect her to stay at home and wait? After she had sailed to the world's end for Jack, how could she not do the same for the man she claimed to love?" A divergence from OST. Sparrabeth.





	1. Chapter 1

She'd sunk all of her guilt, all of her lust into one kiss in the hopes that she'd rid herself of both. Instead, the soft tension of his lips seemed to multiply it. As she pulled away she nearly went in for another kiss, drawn like the tide to the moon. His eyes smoldered upon her. Somehow she found the strength to stop herself midway. "I'm not sorry," she breathed against his lips. He smiled, a knowing smile. She should have known that the statement would not rid her of regret either.

* * *

That awful dream again. Elizabeth Swann, nay, Turner tossed in her blankets in the quiet humidity of the summer evening. She had sailed around the world to assuage her guilt, saved said **guilt** 's very life, and all at the sacrifice of her husband's mortal soul.

Silly her.

In dealing with pirates she should have known that everything came at a price. Her price appeared to be a decade- several decades  _if she was lucky_ \- of solitude. Every ten years she would be rewarded with William's handsome face on the horizon. Ten years was an awfully long time. Was she the wife of a naval man? No. She could never have pictured it. If she had, she would have dashed her dreams for the commodore. Would Will really expect her to stay at home and wait? After she had sailed to the world's end for Jack, how could she not do the same for the man she claimed to love? How could a woman accustomed to sneaking out of her own father's house bear to be held captive in her own?

"That's it!" Elizabeth exclaimed, kicking off the strangling bedlinens. "I'm going to get my husband back." In a blind need to move, she scurried around her room packing what was necessary. Her pearl necklace and several jewels she stashed into a satchel which she tied to her undergarments. Her womanly nightgown she had switched for some of Will's clothing. She eyed his tricorne hat warily, ignoring the sensation of déjà vu she felt as she placed it upon her tied up hair. Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed Will's carefully crafted sword off the wall and plunged it into the scabbard at her belt.

"Maybe his presence will finally rid me of these nightmares…" She did not know at the moment whether she meant her husband or a certain Captain Sparrow.

But, first, she had to find said pirate.

"He could be anywhere. Absolutely _anywhere_  on the vast open sea," she sighed to herself as she traveled the road that overlooked the horizon where she could see her William once upon a decade. Its beauty was lost on her for that reason. She could never bring herself to look. Her steadfast gaze carried her forward, flickering lights of the town glowing brightly in the evening hours. A good wife would be home right now tucking in her children, perhaps pleasing her husband after a meal well cooked. But Elizabeth had none of that to return to.  _Could she be considered a good wife? Could she even be considered a wife without a husband?_  "Enough with this train of thought," she scoffed as she approached town. "You're in need of a boat: Focus, Elizabeth!" She looked up from under her brim at the spirited town. Ladies of the evening trolled the streets as men grew rowdy and raucous in bars. "The drunker the better," she assured herself, ignoring the thrill that shot to her toes as she approached the door at the inn. It was time for another adventure.

* * *

As she opened the heavy wooden door, she had to duck as a bottle struck the wall nearby. She eyed the amber ale as it made its frothy way down the wall. She turned back to examine the trajectory and was met with satisfactory results. There, she spied Pintel and Ragetti arguing with locals over money won from a drinking game. Luckily, the men they slurred their words at were none the wiser of them being pirates. Although, with the way that things were going it wouldn't take long. _Think Elizabeth, think! Who are they working for now?_ First they served Barbossa, then Jack, then Barbossa once more. Did that mean they were still his crewmen?

She shivered at the memory of the first " _Poppet_ " Pintel had uttered to her from betwixt the crack of a door. Could she trust these men? No, of course not.  **Pirates,**  she heard the echo of Jack's pleasant tongue. And yet, they had thrown her a sword at Sao Feng's bathhouse to allow her to defend herself against the East India Trading Company. Her recollection of the moment caused something to stir within her. _I did make a pretty good pirate didn't I? …However was it that I wound up alone in a cabin on a hill?_ She stuffed the sourness down in her throat. It would all make sense when Will came home. Wouldn't it? She just had to bring him home. With that to serve as her ambition, she tipped her hat forward and did her best strong-walk towards the table.

"All right men, all right!" she bellowed in her best male voice as she grabbed the two pirates under the arms of their ragged coats. "Time to get back to the boat. Captain says we need to shove off." She began to drag them at that.

"What the bloody hell are you on about, you," Pintel growled as Elizabeth peeked up from under her hat. "Pop-?" His eyes grew wide with recognition.

"That's enough out of you! Why, the Captain's been on me all day, he has…" Elizabeth continued to chastise until the men were out of the inn and approaching the docks.

As their boots began to creak on the planks of the marina she gave a sigh of exhaustion. She had made it this far, at least.

"Poppet!" Pintel removed his arm, "Just what do you think yer doin'?"

"Saving the beer," she gave a smirk.

Ragetti gave a laugh and looked at Pintel behind his hand, "He's talkin' like Jack." He thumbed at the figure.

"Ragetti, you idiot," Pintel knocked his mate. "Look with your good eye, can't you see who it is?"

He gave a drunken squint. "M-miss Swann!" The boney man straightened up and tried to look proper.

"Hello Ragetti," she tipped her hat.

"Naw," Pintel began to walk around her in appraisal, "it's Missus Turner now, ain't it?"

She didn't know why she felt indignant at the moment, as if the moniker had expected something of her. "So?" She crossed her arms.

" _So_ ," Pintel continued, "why would the missus be approaching two pirates in the middle of the night at port? And dressed as a lad, no less?" He narrowed his eyes with a leer, "Perhaps yer first love be the sea?"

"Perhaps it is," Elizabeth commented offhandedly, to the surprise of both men. She looked at the confusion on their faces. " _It_ 's got my husband!" she threw her hands up in exasperation. "He's essentially one with the sea now, isn't he?"

The pirates exchanged a glance. "I guess you could say that," Ragetti nodded with a shrug, "yeah."

"Well, now that we understand each other, I'll be boarding your ship." Elizabeth began her walk to the row boat.

"Woah, woah, woah, Poppet," Pintel put out a rough hand. "Do you know which ship we be servin' under?"

"Captain Barbossa's ship?" she took an educated guess.

The two males shared a slow laugh which grew near maniacal until they started slapping each other on the back.

"What?" Elizabeth looked between the two, miffed at the unspoken secret, "What is it?"

"More of a 'who,' Missus Turner," Ragetti chortled as he swallowed his laughter. He leaned in close until she could smell the rum on his breath, "Blackbeard." He whispered.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Her eyes narrowed.

Ragetti shrunk, "Well, he is one of the roughest we've served under."

" _And_ he has a preference for pretty little things," Pintel stroked his chin with a smirk.

"If so," Elizabeth grabbed Pinteli's lapel, "he's going to learn that  _big things_  come from small packages." She let him go roughly as she stepped into the row boat. " **Well**?" She looked at the dazed men. "I haven't got all night."

"...Pity she's married," Ragetti leaned towards his mate.

"Aye," Pintel flashed a smile, "to the sea."


	2. Chapter 2

“So, Missus-“ Pintel began as he rowed past the breaker.

“Call me Peter.”

“Well, that’s a big change now, isn’t it?” his lip curled.

“Adaptation is the key to survival,” she smiled. “Or so I’ve been taught.”

“As I were saying, _Peter_ , what’s in this for us aside from a good show when the Cap’n catches you with yer pants down, so to speak?” He grinned.

Elizabeth stared out at the inky water. “You want to serve under Jack again.”

Pintel halted his rowing to lean forward. “Come again?”  

“Let’s see.” Elizabeth counted on her fingers, “You’re not serving under Barbossa, which means that there’s some sort of bad blood there. You don’t speak rather fondly of our current _dear_ captain, and,” she played with the finger from which her ring was absent, “you miss… working for Jack.”

The boat was silent for a moment as the water lapped at the sides.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ragetti chuckled. “Jack called him scary,” he thumbed at his friend.

“Oh, shut it, you!” Pintel slapped Ragetti on the back of the head, causing the man to grasp at his wooden eye. “Why would I miss working for **him**?”

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” Elizabeth leaned forward, “but times were rather good under him, weren’t they? Maybe not quite as _lucrative_ as they could be, but at least there was always an element of fun.” She looked them over, noting the bruises and bags under their eyes. And those were only surface wounds. “Sounds like you’ve seen no leniency in years. Or,” she leaned back, “perhaps you prefer it that way?”

The silence dragged on as Ragetti swallowed.

“You think,” Pintel spoke slowly, “Jack would take us on?”

In his eyes shown a glimmer of hope which Elizabeth grasped readily. “He’s going to have to. I’m taking you with me.”

Ragetti broke into a smile as he searched his solemn friend. Pintel spoke, “And why you think he’d want the little lady who shackled him to the mast of his ship?”

 Elizabeth should have been ready for the question, but the memory caused the fingers to turn into a fist for a moment. “I traveled to world’s end to save him from Davy Jones’ locker. I’d say we’re even.” She eyed them suspiciously, “wouldn’t you?”

Ragetti and Pintel looked at each other, then back to Elizabeth. “Ye got anything else?”

Elizabeth sighed and placed her temples in her fingers. “I suppose I shall have to think of something.” She looked up at the men, “Do you even know where he is? I was going to use his ship to find Will. I know Jack wouldn’t be opposed to charting a course…”

“ _His_ ship?” Pintel snorted a laugh, “I reckon you mean the _Black Pearl_?”

“Yes?” Elizabeth squinted, unsure of the joke.

“Blackbeard’s got it in a bottle!” Ragetti gave somewhat of a sorrowful laugh. “I reckon Jack’s been ashore, drinking himself into a pit since that happened. He hasn’t had much luck finding a replacement.”

“Not that he would want one,” Pintel nodded, “a replacement, that is.”

“ **In** a bottle?” Elizabeth sat up straight, “How on Earth? Never mind, I won’t waste my time by asking. BUT, dear boys,” she placed her hands on both of their shoulders, “I do believe we have found the perfect gift for our estranged captain.” The joy in her revelation was lost on them. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you pirates? Don’t you have a knack,” she gestured with her hands, “for pillaging?”

Ragetti bit his lip, “Not from Blackbeard. He knows the dark arts, you get on his bad side and who knows what he could do to ye?”

“All the more reason to get away,” Elizabeth assured. “Boys, this is the only shot we’ve got to secure a boat and ensure that Jack Sparrow will want to board it. With us.” She pointed between them.

The two men remained silent.

“ _Oh_ , I see how it is,” she huffed, “you want me to do the dirty work, then? All right, I’ll take it upon myself. But you **both** will have to have my back every step of the way. Or- or I’m leaving you behind when I get my hands on that ship,” she finished with indignation.

“All right, Peter Poppet,” Pintel held out his calloused hand with a smile, “Ye’ve got yourself a deal.”

She shook his hand with equal encouragement, turning to the meeker of the duo.

“Good luck,” Ragetti piped up as he shook her delicate fist. He looked to Pintel in worry.

“Yes, I know, she’s got soft hands.” Pintel shook his head, “So help me, we’re going to have to do a lot of covering.”

Their rowing renewed as the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ loomed on the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth felt her heart beat in her ears as she climbed hand over foot on the ladder leading to the deck of Blackbeard’s ship. She bit back memories of one such time she’d descended a ladder, onto a waiting row boat to justify that Jack had ‘ _elected to stay behind_.’ She swallowed. Was he still bitter after all this time? …Would she be if she were in his shoes? 

She brought herself back to the present. Her eyes should be set on the future. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t do. So, what was it she was feeling now? It wasn’t quite fear, or maybe it was, but in that fear, she could feel anticipation, longing, and a sense of a void filling within her. Wherever she was, at least she was not alone on a cabin on a hill. Her sea legs were strong after so many years on the ocean with her father, and, not to mention, her adventures with the reluctant Will Turner. Returning to the open waters felt like home. 

Ragetti did not look back, but Pintel gave her a casual glance, “Try not to let him hear that voice of yers. Do whatever he says and ye might come out of this alive.”

Elizabeth gave a nod from under her tricorne hat. She kept her eyes down. Being the governor’s daughter for so many years, she knew what it meant for a woman to be invisible: to be seen not heard. She should be able to pull this off. Even if the idea of being a lady at sea niggled her to no end. Was there a place she _could_ be free?

“Gentlemen.” She heard Blackbeard’s rough yet eloquent voice as they stepped onto the ship. She dared not look up, staring at his well-shone boots to satisfy her curiosity. “Did you get the information I was looking for?”

 “’Course Sir.” Ragetti spoke nervously, handing over a worn piece of paper that looked something like a map.

“Get those traders drunk and they’ll let anything slip through their mouths,” Pintel spoke. 

“Or pockets,” Ragetti chuckled. 

“Excellent.” Elizabeth saw the captain’s strong hands unfurl, admire, and curl the item before delicately depositing it in a waiting satchel. “Now tell me,” Blackbeard exchanged his satchel for the sword at his hip, “who’s this?” 

Elizabeth felt the tip of cold steel through the cotton at her belly. Her hand itched to draw her weapon in defense, but she stood her ground.

“Cabin boy.” Pintel stepped forward, but not in front of her. “Got him off the streets of town. They had nothin’ fer him no more, so I figured, why not take him with us? The boy was itching to get a taste of the pirate life.” The scraggly man nodded at Elizabeth with a grin, “He knows he’s scrawny, but he’s good with a sword.”

“What’s your name, boy?” Blackbeard brought the sword up to her chin, tilting her head backwards. His coal lined eyes searched hers, becoming wide for a moment with something like recognition. Could he have known? No- her chest was bound, her jawline squared. She hadn’t spoken a word…

“He’s, er, a bit of a mute, Cap’n.” Ragetti shrugged. 

Blackbeard’s eyes narrowed once more. “I see,” the captain marked. “It matters not to me if you speak, boy, only that your job is done. You’ll help the cook in the kitchen and carry buckets to the forecastle when the crew is to eat.” He looked Elizabeth up and down once more, “Are we clear?”

 She gave a sturdy nod.

“Good,” Blackbeard turned. “Off with you now, the deck needs a good scrubbing.”

She could see the mocking smiles on the duo’s faces.

“You two can show him the ropes,” the captain’s voice boomed in the distance. 

At that their grins disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Ragetti exhaustedly tossed the rag in the bucket and collapsed against the mast. “I worked off all the food I never ate!” he sighed.

Pintel did the same and wiped his brow. “Yer hands ain’t gonna be so soft now, Peter Poppet,” he lulled his head at Elizabeth.

She gave him a lazy look back and stuck out her tongue. ‘Great, now they’ve made it so I can’t retort,’ she observed to herself. She should be getting to where the cook was and serving up whatever slop they had. After such hard work, she would appreciate nearly anything. As she stood, she dusted her hindquarters and turned to look at the pair of eyes that leered at her. Only Ragetti looked guilty when caught. They were her allies, but they certainly weren’t making this easy. She harrumphed her distaste and was on her way.

 

* * *

 

 The cook was a large man, the front of his apron all covered in grease and stains of unknown origin. His nose was bulbous and his eyes were redder than his beard. “Cabin boy, eh? Always wanted me one of those,” he chuckled. “I ain’t much of a cook however, they chose me fer my fat, thinking I were good of eating.” He scratched his head, “Which I were, but I weren’t the one cooking it,” he laughed, “Go figure.” The man turned and spooned from a large pot. “We ain’t got much in the way of _food_ here either.” The man dropped some unknown slop into her bucket for the crew. It made a pitiful sound as it hit the bottom that made her stomach lurch. “There’re some potatoes in there,” he commented, “they’ll make due. They always have.”

Elizabeth swallowed and began to turn when her bucket was full.

 “Wait a minnut now,” the cook reached out and took a hold of her shoulder. “You have to feed the captain before the crew, didn’t ye know?” He bent over and took something from the cabinet before placing it on the table: a bottle of rum. 

The sight of the amber liquid took her back, years ago, and suddenly she was drunkenly dancing on a marooned beach. 

_“…We’re really bad eggs,” she sang, “drink up me hearties yo ho!”_

_Together they sang in chorus, “Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a pirate's life for me!”_

_“I love this song!” Jack broke in as he wound his broad hand around Elizabeth’s hip._

_Bits and pieces were missing as they swirled, laughed, and fell to the sand. She was lost at the passion in his eyes in the firelight, but that passion was not for her, oh no. It was for another love altogether. “…What the_ Black Pearl _really represents,” his fingers spread wide, “is freedom.”_

_“To freedom,” she raised her bottle._

_“To the_ Black Pearl _,” he gave hers a clink before downing his own._

And here they were, she marveled with bitter melancholy, still chasing both.

“Leave that bucket here and bring the captain ‘is meal first.” At that, the cook set out what appeared to be a small roast hen. “He don’t like to share,” the man scrunched his nose.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and reviews :)


	4. Chapter 4

 

Elizabeth made her way across the deck and up the stairs to the captain’s quarters. What could she do? _Think Elizabeth. How do you talk to a man when you have no voice?_ She took a swig of the rum to steady her nerves.

_‘You could get him drunk,’_ Elizabeth heard Jack’s voice echo in her skull. She swallowed. Clearly his words were a rebuke. But, why should it matter? Weren’t they all out for their own interests once upon a time? Weren’t they **pirates**?

No, she couldn’t get him drunk. She was nothing of a temptress tonight. Further, being a fearsome pirate captain would surely lead him to have more tolerance than what was left in the bottle. She sighed. Perhaps this night could be used for scouting. She gave a brief knock at the captain’s quarters, balancing the tray with her left arm.

“Come in,” he bellowed from his desk.

As Elizabeth entered, she slyly looked around the quarters to gain a better understanding of the man. Evidence of voodoo, as she’d heard it called, could be seen in various accoutrement. There were needles, swords, burlap, chicken feathers. Candles burned about the room as she turned her eyes to the captain who was staring at the map she’d seen delivered earlier. Then, movement caught her eye, There it was- the _Black Pearl_! On a shelf over the captain’s head were a row of ships in bottles. Though they weren’t like the ones she’d seen at port. Somehow, a wind within the bottles seemed to blow in gales. The waves peaked and ebbed as if a real ocean, testing the vessel. Perhaps she’d even seen lightning within the glass. _Sorcery,_ she thought as she blinked for a moment.

 “Something caught your eye?” Blackbeard uttered as she shook her head a firm no. “Good,” he replied, “I don’t like men with wandering eyes. Too greedy.

She nodded politely as she placed his meal and rum on the table. At that moment, he swiftly grasped her wrist. Elizabeth’s eyes widened with fright at the unexpected contact. “I don’t like liars, either.” His blue eyes burrowed into hers. The silence stretched between them as she struggled to keep her mouth shut and her throat wet.

 “What was it you were looking at when you entered my quarters?” He asked, his hand still encasing her wrist. 

_Anything but the ship!_ She thought as she quickly pointed at the burlap doll, a little girl with brown curls. _Real_ brown curls. It reminded her of something she’d had when she was a child. Although the hair she’d had was yarn…

 Blackbeard’s eyes grew wide and wary again as he let go of Elizabeth, exchanging her hand for the doll’s. “Ah, yes,” Blackbeard spoke absently, “she reminds me… of someone I’ve left behind.” His wistful voice became gruff as he turned, “Ye haven’t got a thing for dolls, do you boy?”

Elizabeth shook her head no, then pointed to the short, stray hairs from her cap and mocked combing them.

 “Yes…” Blackbeard nodded as he looked at the doll, “her hair is real. Somewhere, the girl is real too.” He looked up at the boy Elizabeth portrayed, “Do you have a girl at home?”

Elizabeth took a moment, then shook her head no. Truly, she hadn’t. Not even her mother to speak of for so many years.

Blackbeard caught the sorrow in her eyes, “Aye. So ye’ve lost one too?” Elizabeth nodded. “Suppose life is better at sea. Ain’t nothing left to lose except time.” They searched each other silently for a moment. “Well, what are you waiting for, boy?” Blackbeard murmured as he returned to his seat, “Go on and feed the crew.”

Elizabeth nodded as she took a step backward, bowed, and turned towards the door.

 

* * *

 

_All things considered_ , Elizabeth ruminated as she began to feel giddy, that wasn’t the worst conversation to be had. She’d learned he’d left or lost someone, likely a girl. His child? She wondered, could she use this as leverage somehow if needed? He wasn’t the most open book. Pintel and Ragetti had mentioned him knowing the Dark Arts. She’d seen strange enough things to know to take them at their word- but those bottles, those bottles of ships were unlike anything she’d seen before. And she was married to the captain of the _Dutchman_. The ocean sure was a vast and uncharted territory.

About those ships… if she managed to abscond with the Black Pearl, how was it she could get it to return to usual size? Was there some incantation? What happened if she uncorked it? She was certain she didn’t want to try that on board. Oh, but she was close. So much closer to Jack and Will than she had been in years. _I’m coming_ , she thought. 


	5. Chapter 5

Rum. Warm, spiced rum. Aged rum from old oak barrels. Rum agricole from the finest sugar cane in the Caribbean. Jack was sampling them all at the  _Faithful Bryde_. He'd lost his ship. With no ship came no crew, with no crew came no pirate-y business. He'd even lost the two bothersome stowaways: the whelp, and, well… her. Good riddance to  _her_. She was the one who'd fed his ship to the beastie in the first place. And him, especially him. One kiss was  **certainly**  enough. Enough of those voluptuous lips of hers, those pert, lily-white bosoms just starting to tan with her time at sea…

He took another swig. Damn  _her_. What was it she would be doing now? Raising a runt or two, gifted as a parting gift by dear William? He took a swig again. No. She was about as fit for that as he was for a commodore. He tried to picture it, he found he could, but it felt all wrong. The only thing he could see was her salt curled and sun streaked hair as it waved in the wind like their flag. He could see her standing on the rigging of the ship like a Valkyrie, her sharpened sword raised to the skies as she gave a cry. He could see why they'd mistaken her as the goddess of the sea. The woman was wild, untamable. How could such a woman be suited to stare at the sea and never feel it's rough embrace again? Certainly, she had to be a woman with patience. He snorted at that. A woman without curiosity. Or, at least, a curiosity sated. He sipped once more with a slowly spreading smirk. No. Her curiosity could not be sated- only subdued.  _Ah, but for how long_? He wondered.

"You're thinking about that girl again," a gussied-up Scarlett took a seat next to Captain Sparrow at the bar.

"What?" Jack's nose scrunched, showing his teeth. "There's no girl, darling," he gestured with drink in hand. "What makes you think that?"

"You're laughing to yourself with that goofy smile." She leaned forward with a grin, "Honestly, people will say you're in love."

Jack gave her a look over. He used to have a thing for painted faces. Each one looked the same after a while: rouge cheeks, dark eyes, stained lips. It was easier for him to forget names, forget stories, and focus on other more important places to ensure each party a pleasurable experience. He used to like painted faces, until he met a girl without a mask.

Jack leaned forward with lowered lids, "Let's show them, then, shall we?"

Her lips were a breath away from his as she spoke, "I'd be happy to darling, but you still owe me from last time." At that, she pushed him away. "The only reason I haven't got my girls on you is that I got your first mate to pay up. You ought to thank him, really." As she stood, she looked at the array of empty carafes in front of him. "And," to add insult to injury, "after a night like  **that**  I doubt you have the money or the  _fortitude_  to keep up."

Jack smiled. "Never a need for question of fortitude, love."

She gave a knowing smirk, "Maybe another time, Jack." She turned to walk away. "Pity," she spoke almost to herself, "but even a woman of my stature doesn't want to settle for second best."

"Second best?!" Jack clamored as he leaned back on his wooden stool to watch her go. "What the bloody…" he turned back to the bar to survey the empty glass before him. When he noted the barkeep was distracted, he swiped another amber bottle and returned to his rooms.

* * *

 

Jack took a deep breath, letting it out in a gust as his back landed on the straw mattress. He stared at the wooden beams on the ceiling. What was he doing here? The ground felt all wrong- too solid. The rum helped with that, but it wasn't enough. He needed the sea. He needed his freedom back. There were other things he needed. Though he was loathe to admit, that rendezvous from earlier had him realizing his baser necessities as well. He had no coin, and that which he did was reserved for rum or food. All the girls on Tortuga knew this. It was hard not to know, especially after such a long stint on the isle.

_"Jack," her_  voice echoed in his skull.  _"I need you so much, Jack.''_

Damn her. He ran an open palm over his growing problem. Why was it that her face was the only one to show itself clear as day? He'd tried to imagine other faces, voices, past lovers; but hers would always interrupt part way through. So much of an annoyance it was that he'd long ago decided to give in. Once, he'd made the mistake of calling her name in bed. The slap it had earned him smarted for days. If he ever saw  _her_  again he wouldn't forgive her. No, not for killing him… but the torment that came after.

She breathed,  _"I want to know what it tastes like."_

He released his straining member, stroking slowly from base to tip. "You always have, haven't you?"

_"Yes,"_  she moaned,  _"ever since you pulled me from the water and released me from my corset."_ She played with the strings at her front,  _"Won't you release me now, Jack?"_

"Oh, I'll bring you release." His palm tightened into a fist as he stroked harder. That time was so long ago now. Even if he had gotten a feel on the girl, he had no idea who she would grow to be. Even if he had known, he would have struggled to remember what it was truly like. Had she grown since then? Were they pale and round and soft as velvet? Would they fit just so into his hands? Would she let him taste them to bring her pleasure?

_"Yes!"_  she cried,  _"Jack! Just like that!"_

Gods, he wanted to hear her. He wanted to please her like she'd never known. He wanted to plunge into her slickness, and he'd wanted to be the first to claim her. His heart simultaneously fell and quickened at the thought.

_"Take me, Jack. Take me right here on the deck."_  Her eyes were dark pools of lust, drawing him in. Perhaps it was that look that shackled him to the mast in the first place.

_"Ah!"_  he jerked into her swiftly, filling her completely and ridding her of her maidenhead. Even in dreams he would still himself, looking down as silent tears fell from her eyes. She would take a breath and smile then through the pain, kissing him until their passions renewed. Only then would he bring them both to the brink of pleasure.

Such wasn't the way every night. Sometimes she was on her knees, sometimes she rode him like a strumpet, at times he would bind her and tease her until she screamed. But every time would end the same way: with a curiously unfulfilled Jack in an empty room sans Elizabeth.


	6. Chapter 6

As Elizabeth swabbed the deck for an unknown time, she watched the sun peak over the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. For a moment she felt an awe at to be the first soul to see it. _Bring me that horizon_ , Jack’s voice echoed in her skull. The horizon was freedom, no buildings or objects to block your view to the grandeur of the open sea. In that golden moment she understood. She took a deep breath in and out through her nose. _How would she get to Jack? Where was their next port of call? How could she persuade Blackbeard to venture to Tortuga without a voice?_ She thought for a moment about her other skills. _Of course!_ She marveled at her plan. She had always been good at calligraphy. And, she could copy the handwriting of others very well. She had seen various business associates handiwork as she sat in the office aside her father. She could forge a note from some defect English merchant claiming that they have news on whatever it was that Ragetti and Pintell had handed the captain information about. She would make sure that Blackbeard met the gentlemen at the _Screaming Siren_ pub in Tortuga. While the captain was searching for the absent clientele, she would grab the _Black Pearl_ and beat it for the _Faithful Bryde_. It was the only place she could imagine Jack wasting his days. _He had to be there, he just had to_. If he wasn’t- well… she would figure out how to restore and command the _Black Pearl_ on her own. As she continued formulating her plan, she wondered who would deliver the forgery. Would Blackbeard believe her? Alone it was unlikely. She had only just begun working for the man. But, with the help of Ragetti and Pintel it could look like something.

“I want you to beat me up,” Elizabeth whispered in an alcove later that afternoon.

“Pardon?” Ragetti peeped.

“Ain’t my thing, poppet,” Pintel looked at her as if she’d sprouted another head.

 “You don’t understand,” she continued, “it’s all part of the plan. You’ll make it look like I stole information from you the night I got on the ship. I’m going to forge a note about the information you gave to the captain that day.”

 “You _stole_ from us?” Ragetti looked shocked.

 “Not really, you dolt!” Pintel gave a backhand to his midsection, “She just wants to make it look like she did.” He looked back at Elizabeth, “And then what?”

 “If all goes according to plan, the captain will chart a course for Tortuga, head to the _Screaming Siren_ pub, all while we abscond with the _Black Pearl_ and rescue Jack.” She inhaled after her explanation. It sounded just as daft to her own ears. She gave a wince at the expected rejection.

 “All right,” Ragetti shrugged. Her eyes widened at the acceptance.

 “It’s better than any plan I’ve got,” Pintel looked over at his mate then back to Elizabeth, “but we ain’t flogging the governor’s daughter.”

 “I’m not the governor’s daughter _here_ ,” she placed a hand on her hip, looking every bit as haughty.

 “Sure, Peter Poppet,” Pintel gave a yellow smile, “but I know a better way to rough you up.”

 Elizabeth swallowed against her dry throat.

* * *

 

 “Ugh!” Elizabeth squealed, “What is this?” She looked down as some unnamable bucket of sludge was being wiped on her. There was something gritty in it, scraping at her arm. “Is that- is that gun powder?”

 “It’s better than a beating, that’s what it is,” Pintel mumbled as he continued to rub her arm. He stood back for a second, then ripped the bottom of her shirt for good measure.

 “Hey!” she spoke in consternation.

 Ragetti gave a laugh.

 Pintel looked to his partner, “I’d say she looks that part now.” Then back to Elizabeth, “Keep your eyes closed, like we socked you good. Just lay there and you’ll be fine.”

 “I always wanted to be an actor,” Ragetti marveled.

 “Better be a good one,” Pintel growled, “yer life depends on it.”

 

* * *

  

“Cap’n!” Ragetti cried out.

 “Cap’n!” Pintel joined in. The two men dragged a limp Elizabeth between them, arms locked on either side. “Seems we’ve got a thief aboard the ship!”

 “ _What?_ ” Blackbeard stood at his desk as the men ran through his doors. “A thief?” His brows furrowed as his eyes sought out the cabin boy who’d dutifully served him dinner. “This boy?” His eyes looked to his crew.

 “Yessir, cap’n. Seems the boy was hidin’ a note from the merchant we got the map off of.” Pintel waved the paper in front of him like a flag of victory.

 “Let me see that!” The captain strode forward, his steps reverberating on the deck. He took a moment to read it once, then twice. _The Screaming Siren, eh?_ “Boys,” a smile broke on his face, “what a fortuitous change of events. We’re heading to Tortuga.”

 Elizabeth’s stomach leapt with joy as the first stage of her plan came to fruition.

 “Aye aye, cap’n,” they nodded. Their duty fulfilled, the two men turned to leave with Elizabeth in tow.

 “ **Wait.** ”

 The pirates froze and turned their heads slowly towards Blackbeard.

 “You don’t think I’d let a thief walk amongst my crew, do you?”

 “Er,” Pintel pipped up, “No captain. As ye can see, we took care of him.”

 “Preemptive-like,” Ragetti nodded.

 “You think that’s enough?”

 The two men looked at each other in silence. “…No?” Ragetti squeaked confusedly.

 “No, indeed. Tie him to the mast as an example. Deny him food and water. We’ll execute him at port, if he’s not already dead.”

 Elizabeth fought the urge to lift her head and eye her captor.

 “Captain!” Pintel lurched forward, “he’s just a boy!”

 “I’m sorry,” the captain turned his head, “for a second there I thought I heard treason.”

 Pintel and Ragetti were left mouths agape.

 “Tie. Him. _Up_.”


	7. Chapter 7

"Mister Gibbs," Jack's vision was blurry as his pounding head awakened him to consciousness, "what day is it?"

"Day, captain?" the gruff man came into focus, "why, it must be Tuesday what with the cachaça in your hand." His arms crossed, "Should I chart a course for Belize?"

"No, that won't be necessary," Captain Jack lazily rolled over. Though he couldn't get comfortable, what with the wood digging into his side. His eyes still closed, Jack's hands explored the ground. There was no bed beneath him. He'd been sleeping on the docks. At this revelation, he sat up. "Why're the beds gone?"

"Ah. Awake at last." Mr. Gibbs crouched, "We seem to be out of coin, Captain."

The pirate counted his options, "Isn't there anyone we can sponge of off?"

The first mate shook his head, "No one."

"Not even," Jack stalled, " _Lucita?_ "

Mr. Gibbs stifled a shiver. "No! Heaven sake, Jack, we ain't got no coin and we ain't getting it here either. We've got to form some sort of plan. Maybe we could serve under-"

"No." Jack's expression was somber, "We'll not serve under anyone. None but ourselves."

Mr. Gibbs muttered something about being stubborn as he raked a hand across his face.

Just then, Jack heard the gossip between three deckhands loading a ship:

_"_ _They say issa big vessel headin' to port. Haunted too."_

_"_ _Haunted? Ye really believe that, ye bilge rat?"_

_"_ _Ye ever seen Blackbeard? One look at that mug; I'll tell ye, I'd believe anything."_

"Blackbeard…" Jack was lost in thought.

"Oh, no," Mr. Gibbs pipped up, "No, no, no. You know he's the one who got us into this mess in the first place don't you?"

"I do," Jack nodded. "He's the one who's got me  _Pearl_."

"I've seen that look before Jack, but it won't work. That man's too well guarded. You've heard the rumors: zombie crew? Voodoo rope tricks? That's a strong  **no** , fer me."

"Yes, well," Jack rebalanced himself, "luckily, Mr. Gibbs, no one was asking you."

* * *

Elizabeth woke sometime before daylight to the brush of water against her lips. She drank hungrily.

"Sorry, Poppet," Pintel's voice was subdued.

"Yeah," Ragetti sorrowfully chimed in, "sorry, poppet."

"Don't be," Elizabeth spoke when her vocal chords were thoroughly wetted. "It was my idea, I'll think of a way out of this."

"But, you've been tied to the mast for two days," Ragetti's expression was doleful.

"Shut it, you idiot! She knows that," Pintel grumbled, "she's the one that's been livin' it." He wiped the remnants of water from Elizabeth's chin. They had tied her loosely, letting her out nightly to stretch and freshen herself. Ragetti had even offered his only spare pair of pants. But the freedom was short lived, for they knew their captains eyes to be everywhere. And the days spent tied in the glaring sun were cruel. The rest of the crew had spit on her and said vile things. At times she was glad to be tied up, for the futility of their treats.

She sighed as she sank her teeth into a stale piece of bread. From the rumors they would dock at port today. And she would be executed, one grand journey over before it even began.  _Wait a minute_ ; that was just it! She would pretend that it was over. "Pintel," she whispered, "the captain said I was to be executed."

"Ye seem rather accepting of yer fate," the man eyed her strangely.

Ragetti spoke, "Only if she ain't dead first."

"Exactly!" Elizabeth nodded, "I'm going to play dead."

"Acting didn't work out so well the _first_  time," Pintel shook his head.

"This time he'll be distracted," Elizabeth continued, "I saw how excited he was over that note. He'll be wanting to get to the  _Screaming Siren_  as soon as we dock. You've just got to keep him on track."

The two men exchanged wary glances, "And how do we do that?"

"Pintel, you can give him a list of the man he's looking for. Make sure he has a certain tattoo or scar or something that will not be easy to find. Then, when he's gone, you can untie me from the mast and make it look like you're carrying my body off the boat. Ragetti, while he's carrying me I need you to grab the  _Black Pearl_."

" _Me?!_ " Ragetti put a hand on his chest in disbelief.

"Well, either you or Pintel, because it can't as well be me, can it? **I'm dead!** "

The trio looked to one another.

"It's in his quarters," Elizabeth continued, "just above his desk. All you need do is reach up and grab it. Stuff it in your pocket.  _Be_ the pirate you  _are_."

"I don't know if I can do it…" Ragetti introspected.

"Look," Elizabeth said calmly, "if you can't do that, then you're going to have to find Jack before Blackbeard returns. And that is one tall order, because we're going off the blind assumption that Jack may be on this island at all. There's even less of a chance that he'll be in the  _Faithful Bryde_. And if, in fact, he isn't there- we were going to use his ship to escape. Now, if we don't have said ship, _we are going to wind up rowing out of Tortuga on some dinghy,_ ** _savvy_**?!" Oh God, she'd said it. She'd really just said that stupid word.

"I'll find 'im, 'Lizbeth." Ragetti was resolute, "I promise."

Elizabeth felt her gut fall. She searched her partners. Whatever path they took, the outcome would be uncertain. The dismantling of her prior plan had proved it. "You'd better, Ragetti," she relinquished herself once more to the mast, "because I  _swear_ I'll come back to haunt you."


	8. Chapter 8

Captain Jack and Mr. Gibbs were concealed behind a row of barrels as the  _Queen Anne's Revenge_  made port. Slowly, the gangplank was lowered by the crew. Men distractedly walked up and down the dock, each with their own task.

"Stay on the lookout Mister Gibbs, soon as that beast of a man steps on the dock I'll be heading aboard."

"Aye, Captain," Mr. Gibbs nodded. "Though not up the gangplank, I'm assuming?"

"No," Jack smiled, "as always, I've got my own way."

* * *

 

"Dead, Captain." Pintel looked Blackbeard straight in the eye.

The captain looked over the portly man's shoulder. He eyed the waste of a thing with head lulling forward over the ropes. "Pity. Perhaps I should run him through to be certain."

"No, no," Pintel shook his head, "no need to dirty yer sword, sir, you've got more important matters to address. And I was thinkin' I could help ye."

"Help me  _how_?"

"Well, ye see I know the bloke who wrote that note we found, I could describe him to ye, ye know, fer certain compensation…"

Blackbeard laid a hand on his sword as Pintel expected he might.

"Or without fee," he put up his hands, "seein' as yer captain."

As Pintel was whispering to the captain in an aside, Ragetti gave one last look backward. Soon, his limber legs carried him swiftly down the wooden planks and across the dock towards town.

* * *

 

"Issat…?" Joshamee Gibbs squinted as the familiar frame of a lean man passed them by in a flash.

"What," Jack questioned with his back to the barrel, "is he off?"

"No," Mr. Gibbs shook his head, "just thought I saw an old acquaintance of ours, was all."

"Yes, well, I suppose those traitors had to work for somebody while I was sans the  _Pearl_." He took a moment. "Poor choice in captain, though."

* * *

 

"He was a large man; had the strangest red mustache," Pintel continued, "and this tattoo of something like a dolphin on his throat. Or was it a seal? You know those naval defectors," Pintel tossed his arms up in laughter. Blackbeard gave no sign of sharing the joke. "Anyway," Pintel coughed nearly ten minutes after he'd seen Ragetti leave the ship, "I think I've given ye enough to go off of." He turned, "should be easy to spot."

Then, he felt the cold hand on his shoulder. "Seems like you know a lot about this man, perhaps you should show him to me."

"I would, captain," Pintel winced, "but the body- you know, it's really starting to reek and I should bring it ashore."

Blackbeard gave a dark laugh. "Cast it overboard. We're in Tortuga. Do you really think his will be the first body to float near the docks?" He clasped Pintel on the back, winding him of any air he was already struggling to breathe.

"Aye, captain," he wheezed before walking over to Elizabeth's seemingly lifeless body. "I hope ye can swim, Poppet," Pintel whispered when he was out of earshot. His hands worked to untie her from the mast.

"Leave his limbs tied. The rope should add some weight. Mayhap it'll hide our little mistake."

"Aye…" Pintel's stomach turned inside out.

"Thompson, see that you toss this refuse over the stern," Blackbeard ordered. "Pintel has a task with me."

"Aye captain," the man agreed, slinging the slim frame over his shoulder.

Pintel froze, knowing that disobeying now would mean the death of them both.  _Gods be good_ , he hoped those ropes were lose enough.

"Let's go," Blackbeard awaited his crewman. Together they descended the gangplank slowly.

* * *

 

"He's at the edge of the docks," Mr. Gibbs turned to his captain, "go, Jack,  _now_!"

Jack nodded as he turned as he heading for the mooring rope at the stern. His hands were swift and his dagger was ready at his hip, though they had seen most of the crew leave the ship. He knew not what he would find aboard the vessel, perhaps only clues to the location of the  _Pearl_ , but that would have to be enough. Suddenly, he heard footsteps on deck. He glanced upwards when he saw movement, holding his body close to the shadows of the ship.  _Woah!_ He nearly yelled as a delicate body fell past his frame. He wouldn't have looked twice at the poor devil, no, he wouldn't have looked twice if not for that golden hair. The spark of recognition sent him back years ago when he saw that same mane on a pale girl hurtling towards the water from atop a cliff.

"Elizabeth…" he breathed as her fearful eyes opened and saw him.

Once more he had done as he had before. He dove as soon as she'd hit the water, aiming not to make another splash.

"Jack!" she sputtered, attempting to kick the ropes lose from her feet.

He held her head above water, dagger swiftly darting out to saw the ropes at her wrists. As he freed her, he noted the raw skin. She'd been tied up for some time.

"What the devil are you doing here?!" He questioned as the two floated aside another in the Caribbean sea.

"I," she coughed up burning saltwater, "I came to see you."

"Me?" Jack's brow furrowed, his brain stumbling to catch up with his heart.

"Yes, we need to find Will."

_Ah. The Whelp. All this, **for Will?**_

"Oh! And I found your ship!"

"the  _Pearl_?" Jack smiled excitedly.

"Yes!" she kicked what remained of the ropes from her feet. "Jack, we don't have much time. I sent Ragetti to meet you and oh, Pintel-"

" _Those two?_ " Jack recoiled, " _really_? Well, now, that explains your current situation."

"Jack!" she looked at him sternly, "Your ship is on that boat, do you want it or not?"


	9. Chapter 9

Elizabeth, here, soaking in the waters of Tortuga where blood and various other pirate fluids had spilled. This dream was strange enough. He ought to ask her to slap him and wake him up. And yet, those raw marks from rope ties and the tiredness of her eyes told him: this was no dream of his making. Quite a nightmare really. He looked her up and down with concern. But the thought of asking _real_ Elizabeth if she was all right died on his lips. Fate hadn’t brought her here for him. He wouldn’t be made a fool again. “My _Pearl_ , on that ship?” He pointed upwards, “You’re certain?”

“I saw it with my own two eyes,” Elizabeth tread water. “It’s in his quarters, on a shelf over his desk.”

“Right,” Jack nodded. “I assume, what with the tossing overboard, that you’re considered dead?” He handed her the rope that was tied to the dock. “Mister Gibbs is on the wharf, take the ladder behind the barrels. Pull yourself up and he’ll keep watch.”

She took the rope, her cold hand stalling a second over his ringed fingers. In that moment he admired what a tiny thing it was. “I want to help.”

“You’re dead, love, the dead can’t help. Trust me.” He began to climb the rope towards the deck.

“Jack!” Elizabeth plead.

“Ah. Shouldn’t there be a _Captain_ in there?” He smiled at her for a second before returning to his task.

“Infuriating man!” She huffed as she watched his form slip deftly over the side. “…Be careful.”

 

* * *

 

So far, so good. Not a body in sight. Well, sans the uglies that were keeping watch near the gangplank. Captain Jack crept as they argued.

“I won them coins fair and square!” Said the smelly one.

“No ye didn’t ye bloody bilge rat!” Said the square one.

Jack swiftly knocked their heads together, gaining the coin purse in question as they collapsed on deck.  “Well, gentlemen, it would appear that you’re both wrong.”

 

* * *

 

Ragetti was running about town like a chicken with his head cut off. In fact, he almost lost said head when he stuck it into a rather shady business deal. He narrowly avoided the knife thrown at him. _Jack, oh, where was Jack?!_ He must have ran the length of the shops by now…

Heading back towards the boat, he spied a pretty redhead. _Jack liked pretty girls, didn’t he?_ “Have you seen Jack?” His question was loaded with hope.

She observed how his feet danced with the query, as if he were on a jog. “Might’ve.” She brought her hand to his cheek, which stilled him. “What’s in it for me?”

Ragetti swallowed against his dry throat. “I ain’t got no money, Miss. If that be what yer after.”

Sighing, she took her hand from him and placed it under her suddenly bored chin. “None of you ever do. Not very good at your jobs, are you?”

“Trying to get better!” Ragetti spoke optimistically.

“Aren’t you the cute one,” she smiled. “I like you, so I’ll let you in on a little secret. I saw him heading for the docks.”

“Oh! Thank you, Miss!” He kissed her cheek gratefully, before speeding off.

She held her hand there in surprise. How could such an innocent pirate exist? She chuckled with a wave, “Good luck!”

 

* * *

 

“Pintel.”

“Yes Cap’n?” the man spoke from several feet behind.

“Which one is he?”

“The, er, one with a tattoo on his neck, sir.”

“Of a seal?”

“Something like that.”

The captain’s eyes scanned the crowd, growing wary. “I see no such man.” His hand lingered on the sword at his side. “You wouldn’t be lying to me now, would you?”

“’Course not, sir!” Pintel shrugged as the dark-haired man advanced on him.

“I don’t like liars. You saw what happened to that cabin boy, didn’t you?”

“Indeed I did, sir.” Pintel found himself pressed against a ramshackle wall. “It’s only- that I-”

“That you what?” Blackbeard’s face was inches from his.

“That I forgot to mention that he’s a barkeep!” Pintel coughed out as he saw the man with a mermaid on his neck manning the bar.

Blackbeard turned his head, noting the tattoo. “So he is.” He looked back. “And that is _not_ a seal. Next time you report to me, get your details in order.”

“Yes Cap’n,” he nodded. As soon as Blackbeard approached the bar, Pintel shot out the door. Or, more precisely, into Ragetti.

 “Ragetti, you idiot! Watch where yer goin’!”

“Sorry!” The man in question rubbed his noggin. “I’ve got to get back to the docks!”

“’s fine by me! I’ll beat you there myself once Cap’n discovers the man I told him about is a myth!”

The two gave each other a worried look and kicked rocks towards the wharf.

 

* * *

 

“Miss Elizabeth!” Joshamee Gibbs’ eyes widened as he noted the drenched creature crawling onto the dock. “What’re you doing here?”

“Long story, Mister Gibbs.” Elizabeth sloshed into a seat beside him. “The gist of it is that the _Black Pearl_ is aboard the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Jack, of course, is going to rescue his ship. Hopefully, we can hightail it out of here before an untimely, and might I add, rather dreadful demise.”

Mr. Gibbs frowned, showing his yellow teeth. “Aye. Ain’t it always the way?”

She gave a laugh out her nose.

The two turned at the sound of thunderous footfalls on the dock. “Pintel! Ragetti!” Elizabeth’s head peeked up from behind the barrels.

“He’s comin’!” Pintel shouted, “Cap’n’s on his way!”

“ _Shit._ ” Elizabeth cursed as Joshamee flushed at the unlady-like behavior. She turned her eyes towards the boat in anticipation. “Come on, Jack, come on!”

 

* * *

 

There it was, a little ship in a bottle. His little _Pearl_. Jack marveled at what magic could keep it in such condition. Blackbeard would prove to be a deadly foe if he was able to wield this. Jack was about to snatch the glass up when he wondered if a trap were set. He felt the weight of the pilfered coin pouch in his left hand. He eyed the bottle. If there were any triggers in place, that should offset it. “Sorry,” his mouth twitched at the inanimate pouch. Quick as a wink, he tossed the bag in place of the bottle, grasping his ship at the same time. “Aha!” He smiled.

A whistle, a bird unknown to this island, sounded from the window of Blackbeard’s quarters. Mister Gibbs’ signal. “Back already, are we?” Jack turned on his heel, carrying the bottle with both hands towards the back of the ship.

 

* * *

 

Soon Elizabeth, Joshamee, Pintel, and Ragetti were all lined up behind the barrels.

“My leg’s stickin’ out!” Ragetti squirmed, “He’s gonna see it!”

“No he ain’t, ye lily liver!”

“Both of you better shut yer mouths or we’ll all be seen!” Mr. Gibbs’ admonished. As soon as they quieted, he followed Elizabeth’s suit and watched the ship for signs of Jack.

“Blackbeard!” Ragetti quivered silently as the angry man stomped up the wharf towards the gangplank.

Elizabeth fought every instinct to scream, _Get out of there, Jack!_ Even if her voice couldn’t, her mind was. She had come so close. Traveled so far. Faced torture and death. After all that, she’d only spent a second with the man who had haunted her dreams enough to inspire this adventure to begin with! That smug, stupid pirate. Her lips became a fine line. There had to be more time. There just had to.

 

* * *

 

Jack was moving as swiftly as possible without dropping the tiny _Pearl._ How was one supposed to go about getting their vessel back in working order? Was there some sort of bibbidi-bobbidi-boo?

“What are you doing aboard my ship?” A voice growled.

Oh, well, no time to figure it out. Might as well go with his first instinct. Jack tossed the _Pearl_ over the stern. If he wasn’t right, bottles would float- wouldn’t they?

“Just taking a stroll, really. Lovely craftsmanship,” Jack trailed a finger on the wood. It came up spotless, much to his surprise.

“Would you like to admire the craftsmanship of my sword as well?” Blackbeard extracted his long blade, prepared to run the intruder through.

Jack looked on with a wince, “I’m not one to examine swords, mate.”

Blackbeard gave a battle cry as he ran forward.

 

* * *

 

“Look, there!” Ragetti cried, “It’s the Pearl!”

“What in the name of-,” Pintel squinted, “it’s growing on the water!”

“Praise be!” Mr. Gibbs grinned, “We’ve got a ship!” He turned to his crewmates, “And I’ve got just the dingy to get us there. Come on.”

While the rest of the crew rushed to the rowboat, Elizabeth’s concern was elsewhere. She was startled when Mr. Gibbs grabbed her hand. “He’ll be all right. He’s _Captain_ Jack Sparrow.” Through the quirk of his lips she could see his well-veiled apprehension. “Come on.”

At that, Elizabeth followed suit.

 

* * *

 

Blackbeard’s sword rammed into the side of his ship as Jack dodged. This gave the pirate a second to realize he was once again in command of the _Pearl._ “It’s back!” Jack beamed as he noted the black vessel sitting pretty in the waves.

“No!” Blackbeard yelled as he extracted his sword. “How’d you get yer hands on that?”

“A little birdy told me.” Jack raised his sword to meet the next blow. “Speaking of which, I have to get back to that Swann. Er, whatever she is now. If you’ll excuse me-”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Blackbeard thrust his sword. Jack parried until he was up against the rail. At Blackbeard’s next move, Jack flipped over the rail, aiming for the sea. This act earned him a slice to the midsection that would make it much harder to swim to the dingy. Harder, but not impossible.

“I’ll get you for this!” The angry pirate yelled from the stern of his ship. “You and everyone you’ve ever loved!”

 _So, just me then?_ Jack formulated the words in his head, but the blow to his stomach kept him from speaking. For now, he would concentrate on swimming.


	10. Chapter 10

The _Black Pearl_ was up and sailing again. And, aye, what a vessel she was! Sans for the fact that it seemed more like a zoo, what with the pet to crew ratio. Barbossa’s evil monkey and Mr. Cotton’s parrot seem to have been shrunken along with the _Pearl_ some time before 1750; at that blaggard’s _last_ mutiny. The one which left Jack stranded on Tortuga. Come to think of it, this whole mess was Barbossa’s fault. Captain Jack strolled the line of the boat. _No worries_ , he thought to himself, _that man won’t make it to roster on my new crew_. They were sailing to Saint Martin, part of the Leeward Islands in the Caribbean Sea. Sandy white beaches. Impartial French folk. There, they could also scrounge up a few scurvy sea dogs to properly run this ship. Of course, it didn’t hurt that rhum agricole was rich in supply. 

“Well, Jack,” Elizabeth’s voice came up behind him and he had to wonder once more if it were a dream, “Are you happy?”

He turned on from his view of the horizon. “Would be more so,” Jack patted his belly, “if I weren’t Blackbeard’s pin cushion.” He winced, “Still smarts.” The two rested their elbows on the rail. “What about you, lo-” _No. Better not to say that word_. “Lizzie?” His head turned slightly to examine her face, “Are you happy?”

Her deep brown eyes looked him over with contemplation. Swiftly, she looked back to sea. “I suppose. I mean, this is what I set out for: to find my husband.”

It would appear _that_ still smarted as well. “Ah, Lizzie. I didn’t know we had gone through the rights of marr-i-age,” he joked, “You should have told me. When’s our anniversary?”

“Jack!” She slapped his shoulder, “You know I’m talking about Will.”

“Aye.” _I know._ “What of the Whelp?”

“I wouldn’t know… The last time I saw him was on that beach five years ago.” She brought a lock of hair behind her ear, the color of long-sought coin. “Not a word by letter. But, I’m sure he’s faring well. After all, he’s back with his father.”

Jack stalled, his expression becoming serious, “Why all this then?”

“All what?” Her gaze implored him.

“All this,” he lifted her wrists to show her the scabs from the ropes that tied her. “Why risk your life? What do you hope to gain when you see him again? You and I know he’s a cursed man, Lizzie. He can’t fairly well board the ship back with you.” He eyed her briefly, “Why torment yourself?”

“I don’t-” she pulled back her wrist and folded it within her sleeve stubbornly. “I don’t know! I was hoping we could find a way. You always seem up for another adventure.”

“What then, _hm_? Would having ol’ Will at home with a couple of bouncing babes make you truly happy? Is that what you’d think to yourself when you’re safely tucked into your boring beds?” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her as he asked.

His words seemed to hint at an answer he already had. The fact that he’d known so much off of so little stung at her pride. “I’m… not sure of that either,” her voice grew in strength, “I love him. But, it’s been five years. _Five years,_ and all I know is that I can’t **stand** looking out at that damn horizon while I sit and wait ashore!” Her chest moved with exertion.

“Aye.” Jack gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. “And that’s enough of a reason as it is.”

A breeze uplifted her hair. “…I have to find him, Jack.”

“We will,” he brought his hands back to the rail. “As long as you know exactly what it is you’re searching for by the time we do.”

Elizabeth nodded indignantly before joining him to watch setting sun.


	11. Chapter 11

 The crew was having a rowdy reunion below deck, which caused Elizabeth to stir from her slumber. Since she was a woman, they had allowed the privacy of the chef’s quarters. She was thankful for that since she had no night clothes to speak off. She shuffled on Will’s old shirt and Ragetti’s borrowed trousers, making a note to purchase clothing once they’d come ashore.

As she padded across the wooden planks in her bare feet, opening a door to the ruckus. Even if these pirates were among the annoying and absurd dredges of society, she felt a strange happiness being back in their presence. It was nice not to be alone.

As soon as Elizabeth entered, Jack shouted, “Hide all the rum!” as he clutched the bottle close to his chest.

“Easy, Jack,” she smiled coyly, “we’re not stranded now, are we?”

“I suppose not,” he cautiously placed the drink back on the sturdy, wooden table, “but when it comes to you and rum- nothing good can come of it.”

“Was she an awful drunk?” Pintel snickered.

“The worst kind,” Jack gave a nod. “She didn’t have a drop.”

The pirates gasped in unison.

“Miss Elizabeth, ye never been drunk before?” Joshamee Gibbs squinted.

“I-“ she bristled at Jack’s knowing smile, “I have! I’m just able to handle my liquor better than _some_ people at this table.”

The pirates murmured as they glanced to Jack. The captain had personally took it as a challenge. He relished in any opportunity to see the prideful Elizabeth squirm. What was it about the prim and pretty that made him lust for their undoing? This girl. She was the impetus for all this. How nice it would be to see her fall; to see her lower than he had ever felt those empty nights with nothing but his fist. Lower than the depths of Davy Jones’ Locker. _Dark place, mate_. Then again, she’d had empty nights stretching far longer, with no distractions in between. She needed to unwind. He grasped a chalice, filling it a sizable amount. “There,” he slammed it down. “You finish that before I finish this bottle, and I’ll call you the bloody Queen of England.”

Elizabeth grasped the glass. “I like ‘Queen of the Sea’ better,” she grinned, “more far-reaching.”

The pirates began banging on the table in encouragement, “Drink! Drink! Drink!”

“Cheers,” Jack toasted before tipping the bottle up.

Elizabeth swiftly began to swallow, halting to breathe after the burning in her throat and the roof of her mouth. Civilized wine was nothing like this. What a strange and acidic taste…

“Drink, ‘Lizabeth!” Ragetti prodded, “Or I’ll lose my wager!”

She gave him a smile before looking back at Jack’s calm dark eyes as he swallowed. There was something amazing about his dedication to the drink. Amazing, yet terribly sad. Whatever the case, she would not lose. She held her nose and downed the rest of the glass in one gulp.

“Hurrah!” the crowd cheered.

“It be a tie,” Mr. Gibbs observed.

Elizabeth slammed her glass back on the table. “Best two out of three.”

“Lizzie, are you trying to get me drunk?” Jack pressed a hand to his chest.

“You forget- I’ve gotten you drunk. It’s quite easy, really.”

“Oh, come now.”

“I, on the other hand, have not succumb to your tricks,” she smiled.

“I’m bound to succeed one of these days,” he raised another glass to his lips.

* * *

 

“Well, _Queen of the Sea_ , I think nap time is in order,” Jack observed one drunkard passed out at the table, others returned to their hammocks.

“’M not tired,” Elizabeth slurred as she lounged her upper body on the table. At this moment Jack was far more sober than she. He could see now what a drunk Lizzie truly looked like. She was completely uncomposed, hair a mess, cheeks flushed with color, and this ever-present smile graced her lips. Her glazed eyes looked at him almost … _admiringly_. It set a funny feeling in his stomach that he’d hoped never to feel again. **No.** Perhaps it was just the gash Blackbeard had left.

“Come along now, time for bed.”

“Carry me!” she laid back on the bench, her waiting hands in the air.

Had there been any doubt, Lizzie was now drunk for certain. “I don’t think you would like that.”

“Fine,” she pouted, “I’ll sleep here.”

Jack looked to the pirates’ quarters, “No you won’t, lass. Come on. Get up. Use yer feet.”

She stood stubbornly, tumbling into Jack’s arms. The two stared at each other before Elizabeth cradled herself against his throat, “I can’t, Jack. Carry me.”

 _Dear Lord in heaven_ , he’d dreamt of the feeling of her in his arms begging against his throat. Had it been any other woman, he would have spread her wide over the wooden table. Sleeping pirate be damned. Why should it mean any different that it were Elizabeth? Was it because she was married? No. That had never bothered him before, even if he’d known the beau... What was it Lizzie, _what was it?_ He swept her limp form up, as if the only thing he could do was oblige. After all this time, after she’d clasped him to the mast and sent him straight to hell, the only thing he could do was please her. This was not who he was. This was not Captain Jack Sparrow. Whoever this man was, he hated himself for it.

“…strong,” she mumbled against the part of his chest she’d bared with her weight.

It wouldn’t do to listen to drunk Lizzie. It wouldn’t do to think of her ever again. As he’d told her, _nothing good can come of it_.

“Here we are,” Jack kicked open the swinging door and placed her on her waiting bunk. The full moon shining through the porthole was enough to see by. Being in the chef’s quarters, he’d noticed a pitcher of water nearby. Jack took a moment to pour each of them a large glass. He turned to her, “You ought to drink-”

He couldn’t think, for once in his life he was alack for words, as Elizabeth tossed her worn clothes on the floor beside the bed. She was more magnificent than his dreams, more so than any woman he’d set eyes on in his long and loathsome life. Her wavy locks just nearly covered her pert breasts, the soft curves of her woman’s body leading to a sparse triangle of curls and the perfect legs which she used to walk to him. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she grasped the chalice and stumbled once more. As he caught her then, feeling the warm and supple flesh bend betwixt his fingers. “Elizabeth…” he breathed.

“Jack?” she looked up at him as her ever-present smile shifted. “I think I’m going to be sick…”


	12. Chapter 12

Elizabeth awoke with a headache. Never had she ever been angry with the sun, yet she felt it now as the light danced across her eyelids. “Urg,” she rolled away. She had been tipsy before, but her decorum had kept her from acting as wild as she had last night. Confound that pirate. When Elizabeth tried to scrounge up the details, she could only think of challenging Jack and spending some time hugging her chamber pot. What an embarrassing mess. At least the rest of the crew didn’t have to witness… Wait a minute, the crew… how did she get back to her chambers? Her tired eyes opened as she examined a certain captain laying on the prep table.

“Jack!” she shouted, sitting up.

“Who? Wassat? Lizzie?” He sat up, eyeing her fully, “Well now, that’s a welcome sight to wake up to.”

“What?” she looked down, swiftly pulling her linens to cover herself, “How dare you!”

“Oh, come now; nothing I haven’t seen before. You were so eager to be out of those borrowed clothes. Must agree with you there, who knows where-”

“Jack!” Her face grew hot, “You didn’t!”

And suddenly, he was very glad he didn’t. “Didn’t what?”

“You know very well _what_! There can only be one reason you’re in my chambers this early and-”

“And it’s because I was keeping your lovely hair out of harm’s way. I brought you on to this ship. I don’t intend to have you die on it. Unlike _some_ people.”

They both stared at each other for a tense moment.

“…You really didn’t?” her voice was small.

“No, love,” his voice matched hers in strength, “I didn’t. And seeing as you’ve survived the night, I’ll be on my merry way.” He hopped off the table and began his strut, “That is, unless -”

“No!” She squealed before composing herself, “No… Good day, Captain.”

“Good day,” he smiled at the tip of his hat, “Missus Turner.” With that, he closed the door.

* * *

 

 _Missus Turner, Missus Turner,_ Jack kept repeating to himself as if the words were a talisman against the wicked memories from the night before. _She’s not just married mate, she’s married to a man you fought beside, someone like a brother_. Well, that was a weak argument if he ever knew one. He was after all a pirate: _Take what ye can, give nothing back_. No, the crux of the matter wasn’t young, undead William. No matter how nice of a lad he was. It was **her**. It had always been her. He took another swig. Oh, to be as young and inexperienced as Lizzie. This little drink would let him forget her nubile form and the weight of her. His hand just under her-

“Mister Gibbs.”

“Aye, Captain?”

“We should be about an hour from port. Would you be so kind as to steer us in? I have other matters that demand my attention.”

“Of course, Cap’n.” Gibbs nodded as he took hold of the ship’s wheel.

Other matters indeed. Jack didn’t know why his blood ran so damned hot. From all he could gather there were quite a many things he’d like to forget. His search of oblivion followed one of two avenues: the drink in his hand or the woman at his side. Often times they were in combination, for one alone was never enough. He lay on the bed in his captain’s quarters, arms folded behind his locks, hat abandoned on the hook by the door. There was something about that girl. Something that made him feel weak. Maybe it would be better to leave her on the _Dutchman_. At least then, it seemed, that both of them could get what they wanted: some semblance of their lives before. Some semblance of the joy they could gather from their beds being warmed by another. But Jack knew, that warmth compared not to the fire they could have known from each other.

* * *

 

As Elizabeth tucked her feet into her boots, she felt the need to address her misgivings with the captain. She had judged him rather cruelly. The man had only kept her safe. Heaven only knows what could have happened if she’d run amuck on the ship without his surveillance. He deserved to be thanked for his kindness, and for his …discretion. She recalled how he hadn’t kissed her once before when she leaned in for it. _“I’m proud of you, Jack,”_  she’d said. And yet, it had made her wonder. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Such thoughts stewed in her brain, culminating in her shackling him to the mast in a blistering kiss. And even that kiss was not of his doing. It was all her own. Guilt and self-loathing spread through her veins. She knew what it was it about her that made him want to take his rum and run in the opposite direction. She knew of the events that had transpired to lead them to where they were today. And yet, she couldn’t help but ask herself, _Why any other woman but me?_

“Good day Mister Gibbs,” Elizabeth stepped out on deck.

“A fine day, Miss Elizabeth,” Joshamee smiled. “Should be heading ashore soon.”

“Glad to hear it! Should I inform the captain?”

“Aye, if it pleases you. ‘Tis likely he doesn’t want to be disturbed though. Something about ‘matters to attend to.’”

“Ah. Well, I’ll just give a knock on his door and be quick about it.”

Joshmee nodded and continued steering while Elizabeth strolled to the back of the boat. She was still developing her sea legs. She wondered if this was how Jack had come to develop his trademark swagger. _I probably look as much out of place on this boat as he does on land_ , she tittered to herself. As she approached his door, her hand aloft, she decided not to knock. Why should she? He had caught her unaware this morning. Perhaps it would be fun to catch him singing to himself or annoy him as he tried to chart a course. She smiled then, swiftly pressing the door open in anticipation. What Elizabeth saw was not on her short list of speculations. Jack’s broad hand stopped pumping around his member as he sat up and covered himself with his shirt.

“Elizabeth!” He stared at her with previously unseen vulnerability.

Her heart leapt up into her throat as she leaned back on the door. She heard it shut under her weight.

“Lizzie,” Jack swallowed in confusion, “what are you doing?”

Her back remained against the door, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- to interrupt you…”

“Yes, well…” Jack looked down and the floor and back to her flushed face, “the fact remains that you’ve shut my door. With you on the other side of it.”

“Pretend that I’m not here.”

“Why? Lizzie, is something happening out there? Are you running from-”

“No,” her answer was rather breathy for her taste. “I just wanted some retribution for this morning.”

“Ah. If this is about vengeance, I’ll have no part of it.” He smiled, “Say what it is you want, Lizzie. Say it and you just might get it.”

 _Infuriating man_. “I-“ she inhaled, “I want you to finish.”

Jack peeled back his shirt, presenting his impressive shaft before her. He trailed his palm across it slowly. “Now,” his searing eyes met with hers, “was that the nicest way you could ask?”

“Please,” was all she could stammer in her flustered state. _Curse her trained courtesies._

“As you wish,” Jack smiled as he lay back against the wall, one hand stroking himself while the other palmed his sack beneath his pants. He kept eye contact with her as he did so, his eyes closing every now and again from pleasure. Elizabeth chewed her lip. She had heard gossip of it, but she’d never seen the act of someone touching themselves. She felt dirty, like she wanted to look away, but his strong gaze ensnared her. It was almost as if she were more tempted to look there than at the activities below. It was if she were validated, truly seen by the man who would nary give her a kiss. Somehow, he was prostrating himself before her. Her breath grew in time with his ministrations, though she did nothing but watch. Her knees grew weak and her shoulders grew numb as she held out against the door. His moans echoed in her ears until she could feel herself grow slippery.

“Do you want me to cum, Lizzie? Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she swallowed, “I want it. Cum for me…”

Those words were enough to send him spiraling, spending himself into his palm.

The two spent several moments afterward in silence; each catching their breath, their minds just beginning to conceive what had occurred, and where it would go from here.

Elizabeth was about to be the first to speak when she was interrupted by Joshamee’s, “LAND HO!”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and reviews! Keeps me going.

"As you were, Captain," Elizabeth breathed as she found the strength to straighten herself up against the door and make a swift exit. What she did  _not_  have the strength for was divulging any sentiments she may have had on the subject matter of the last several minutes.

Jack wasn't used to feeling this way, a rather miffed feeling, like his torso was being trampled on and he wanted to shove the bloody bugger off!  _Used_ , as it were. Now he understood why those feminine creatures were always slapping his poor vis-age.  _Come now, chin up._ He had been made satisfied, oh yes. But nowhere near completely. He couldn't figure out what that incompleteness was and it bugged the ever-living hell out of him. No matter. He wouldn't be providing any more  _services_  for Missus Turner. Not unless he received a little compensation in return. Tit for tat, as they say. He was the Captain of this ship and wouldn't be made to feel as if he were some green boy. No... He wouldn't provide until she was a raw bundle of nerves aching to be plucked. And  **that** thought put a smile on Captain Jack Sparrow's face.

* * *

"Oh, what have I done? What kind of wife- what kind of  _person_  am I?" Elizabeth breathed once she was in her quarters. Her heart struggled to return to its usual pace. "I was just curious. I never touched him," she affirmed to herself, "Right, it's just as if I'd walked into a brothel and observed the patrons." She placed a hand on her mouth in thought, _if those patrons were dashing and dangerous pirates with members the size of a- No! No._  It wouldn't do well to dwell on that. "Then again, I told him to- to- oh dear." Thoughts of his seed spilling into his palm filled her with terror and elation. What would Will think? Poor, handsome, dedicated Will. Saintly Will.  _Quick_ Will.

That night they'd spent on the beach was the only intimate one she'd ever known. There was a lot of anticipation leading up to the moment, finally being together with someone you'd fantasied about for years. They'd barely taken off their clothes when they'd laid together. In Will's case, his years of yearning were longer, and well, the moment the two were joined it seemed to be over. Without much experience to draw from, Elizabeth had thought that was it: that was marital bliss. And yet, she'd just stood in the Captain's room for near thirty minutes before he was spent. Think of all the possibilities one could accomplish in thirty minutes… She swallowed bitterly against her thirst. There was so much more that Jack knew in that area, so much expertise he'd had- and she was  _jealous_! She hated to admit it, but she was damned jealous of the multiple positively  _satisfying_  encounters Captain Jack Sparrow had certainly encountered in his relatively short life. And she'd only had one sweet, yet positively disappointing coupling. And he just had to go and flaunt it in front of her again.  _Stupid pirate! I bet you were sure to encounter some horrible diseases too!_ The ache in her heart spat. But his member, it was so smooth, so rigidly healthy and unmarred. It was no wonder the women wouldn't turn him down. But she would. Jack could fuck every woman in the world for all she cared. She refused to be a part of his never ending, dispassionate conquest.

* * *

"Missus Turner," Jack looked Elizabeth up and down as the two met at the gangplank.

"Captain," she eyed him warily, straightening her posture.

"Those two have a fight 'er something?" Ragetti leaned towards Pintel, who shrugged in indifference.

"Don't know, don't care. I'm getting off this boat," the man walked straight towards the two standing in his way.

"Hey, wait for me!" Ragetti hollered as his enthusiasm knocked the woman into the Captain's arms. Jack caught her readily.

Elizabeth could feel his biceps, taut beneath his jacket at her weight. Her hands explored them as she looked up at him with a slow curiosity. At the sight of his cocky half-grin, she pressed herself from him swiftly. Her flushed face gave a, "Hmph!" as she walked down the gangplank ahead of him.

"What's she so miffed over?" Joshamee questioned the wistfully glancing Captain.

"What does anyone who's got everything they ever wanted have to be miffed over?" Jack spoke as he watched Elizabeth's confident strides on the dock.

"That'd be something they didn't get, Sir." Joshamee looked on with him.

Jack turned back to his first mate, "Can't be, Mister Gibbs. She's gotten everything."

"Then, mayhap, the lady is disappointed with something she already  _has_?"

"Ah," Jack looked back towards the shore. "Now there's something I've heard tell of before." So _that's_ why she was using him. She hadn't been satisfied by the whelp. If that was so, then why in the seven seas was she on her way back to him now? …No matter. It wasn't his job to pick up the pieces. He was on a new isle full of women and rum and he planned to explore them all with the coin he had stashed on his ship. Not one of them would be named Elizabeth.

* * *

Elizabeth ran her fingers over the white linen hanging from a makeshift stall in the harbor town. She was in desperate need of all manners of clothing. As she looked at the clean fabrics she debated whether or not to throw her borrowed pants overboard.

"Try anything you like, love," Jack intoned.

"I planned to-" Elizabeth spoke as she raised her head to see a buxom, olive-skinned woman hanging from Jack's arm. She had to close her mouth as quickly as it opened.  _Well, he's awfully fast to recover._  She was suddenly glad for not going any farther than spectating. It would crush something inside of her to be another card in Jack's deck.  _This_  was the thing she kept telling herself when those feelings would bubble up inside of her on deserted isles and empty decks.

The woman squealed as she rummaged the clothes in delight. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she approached her Captain. "Nice work, Jack. I'd say she'll be in the palm of your hand by tonight." She looked up at him, her chin tilted, "And I've seen how  **hard** those hands can work."

"Trust me when I say, Missus Turner," he smiled down at her, "you've not seen  _all_ my hands can do. Maybe I'll show Joanne, here." Jack watched as Elizabeth's eyes squinted and her mouth turned into a thin line.

"You're deluded," she pushed past him. "I need a drink."

He caught her arm, "Careful now, darling, I've seen what a bottle of rum can do. Not that I mind the view."

She tugged her sleeve out of his grasp. "Maybe I'll show someone else as well, then," she snapped.

All of Jack's cockiness disappeared from his face, "You wouldn't…"

"I think I would." 

"It's too dangerous."

"What's it to you if you have Joan, or whatever her name is."

"What's it to _**you**_  if you have Will?"

Her jaw dropped open and she stared. Just stared, until her eyes glossed over. The look was enough to nearly force an apology from Jack. Though he bit his tongue for his words were true. "I don't have him, now, do I?"

A lump grew in Jack's throat, "Elizabeth…"

"No!" she growled quietly, "Go fuck your whore, and I'll go do whatever it is I want because you're not my husband, now, are you?"

"…No," Jack gazed at her sad, brown eyes.

At that admission, she turned and sped off.

"Elizabeth!" He called, chasing after her, "What's the matter with you?"

A tear escaped her eye, which she angrily swatted away.

"We will find William, I promise you. We're here in this town gathering a crew to do just that. I'm doing this for  **you!** "

" _I don't know if I want to find him!_ " She turned to Jack, tension radiating from her body as more tears fell from her cheeks. After that outburst she took a deep breath, hoping to swallow all of the words she'd just said.

"What?" Jack's brow furrowed.

"I don't know if I want to find him." She chewed her lip, "I've been thinking about what you've said, Jack, and I don't want to be cooped up in that house again. I don't want to be the mother to his kids. I still love him, as a person I will always love him. But, how," the tears were falling freely now as she took another swipe with her sleeve, "how can you be passionately  _in love_  with someone you haven't seen in five years? I'm a different person now. God only knows what Will is like, he could be another Davy Jones for all I know!"

Jack shivered at the thought.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" She took a seat on the dune of a sandy shore. "We've been different people all along. Our perspectives were getting more and more distant as our adventures grew. He was after his father, he got what he wanted. And what- what was I after?"

"Freedom," Jack supplied as he took a seat beside her.

She looked up at him from her red-rimmed eyes. "…How do you know that?"

"Elizabeth," he sighed, "you may not have been very honest with me when we were stranded, but I was honest with you." His eyes met hers as he brushed her drying tears with his thumb, "The  _Black Pearl_  is my freedom. The horizon is my freedom. That's why I fought with everything in my power to keep it."

Elizabeth spoke slowly, "Then, what's my freedom?"

"That, as they say,  _you are free to decide_."

The two stared out onto the horizon, watching the sunset as they listened to the waves lap against the rocks. "I think I have to find it Jack. I think that once I find it, I can face Will again. But it won't be as my husband. Things have gone too far to go back to that."

The two looked out at the clouds, now purpling in the sky. "Well," Jack spoke after some time, "The vows  _do_  say 'until death.' Nothing about the undead in there. I've looked."

Elizabeth laughed through her nose, "Why, did you marry a zombie?"

"Never once married." Jack tapped his chin, "Almost forced into several marri-ages."

Elizabeth gasped, "Children out of wedlock?"

"What! No." He shook his head, "No, no. no. You can trust there ain't another Sparrow out there." The sun had now completely set and the air was growing cool. Jack stood and brushed the sand off, offering his hand, "Why do you ask, Miss Swann?"

She flushed at the use of her maiden name. That was who she felt like, who she was. "Because I shouldn't want to meet another Sparrow," she smiled as he pulled her up, "the one in front of me is enough as it is."

"You know you love me, Lizzie," he joked, but the smile was quick to fade from his face.

"You wish," she teased as she headed for the bar.

And somewhere deep inside the jaded heart of Captain Jack Sparrow, he admittedly did.


	14. Chapter 14

Jack's gaze lingered on the back of the girl entering the tavern. He wondered what her freedom was. To have traveled this far and faced as many obstacles as she had, he'd expected it to be Will. And yet, she had come to the decision that her husband… Er, ex-husband…  _Was she a widow?_  Anyway, Elizabeth had come to the conclusion that Will represented confinement to certain expectations she'd rather not meet. Quite the opposite of freedom, really. So,  _what was it_  that she was after? Jack expected her freedom was the same as his own. That horizon, which had felt like her prison in waiting, was now her escape. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she was after the pirate life: gold, guts, and glory. Perhaps she simply enjoyed traipsing around in men's clothing. He couldn't lie, he'd appreciated the view her pants had afforded him. Or lack of pants. Jack dragged a hand across his beard. Powers that be, he really needed to erase that image from his mind if he was going to share a ship with that woman for an obscene amount of time.

"Yoo-hoo!" A familiar lilt cried, "There you are Cappy!" Ah. Joan. _Joanne?_ Did he really want company this evening? Of course he did… He was Captain Jack Sparrow. He'd prefer company every evening, wouldn't he? All the better to drown out the sights and sensations of the evening before.

"'Ello darling," Jack put his arm out as the two strolled along the beach. "Did you have fun at the shop?"

"I did!" She smiled through her painted lips, "I tried whatever I liked, as you said. The shopkeeper's awaiting your coin on the morrow!"

Jack's mustachioed lip twitched, "Glad to hear it." Though he was certainly not. "Shall we celebrate with some rum at the inn, then?"

"Oh!" Joanne squealed, "Naughty boy, you just want me all to yourself in a room there, don't you?"

Jack dug up a smile as the two sauntered in, "How could I stay away?"

* * *

Elizabeth nearly spat out her liquor as she saw the Captain and his company enter the bar. She turned back towards the barkeep with a scowl on her face. One island. _One whole island_  full of inns and he just had to follow her into this one. She was not in the mood to deal with Captain Jack Sparrow tonight. Not after that awkward conversation. She'd tried so hard to keep it to herself, but there was something about that infuriating man that made her want to shout. To make him understand. For some reason, she wanted him to understand. Maybe then she could get rid of this sick feeling in the pit of her, and no longer be plagued by dreams. Maybe then she could find what it was she was searching for. Jack's date let out a high pitched cackle, as if to underline her discomfort. Elizabeth flinched.

"Too loud in here for you, Poppet?" Pintel leaned over. _What was this, a pirate bar? Was there some sort of marking that made it so?_ She would have to figure it out if she ever wanted an ounce of time to herself.

"Nah, I think it's the gigglin' miss sittin' on Jack's- oof!" Ragetti spoke until Pintel's elbow met with his midsection. The pirate rubbed it with a hurt look on his face.

Elizabeth tilted back her glass and placed it on the bar. "Would you gentlemen care to buy me another drink?"

* * *

 

"He's just so full of himself, isn't he?" Elizabeth continued her tirade about Captain Jack Sparrow after several rounds of spirits.

"Issat treason?" Ragetti whispered to Pintel. "I mean, not that we haven't mutinied before."

"Nah," Pintel shook his head with a smile, "'Tis jealousy."

"I can hear you," Elizabeth leaned forward as the two men leaned back at her admission. "Jealousy? Hah!" She slammed her glass down. "Why on Earth would I be jealous of  _him_?"

"He's gettin' laid," Pintel swallowed his grog.

Ragetti spoke behind his hand, "Or would she be jealous of the  _lady_  gettin' laid?"

"Neither!" Elizabeth slurred. "Who says he's getting' laid anyway?"

"Over there," Ragetti pointed, "he's walkin' up them steps to the quarters."

Elizabeth turned to see the two arm in arm heading exactly where she would expect a man like Captain Jack Sparrow to go.

"Then we are too," Elizabeth pushed her chair back from the table, "c'mon boys!"

Ragetti and Pintel looked at one another in wide eyed disbelief.

"I ain't gonna ask twice!" she hollered as she headed up the stairs.

"Oh dear, oh dear…" Ragetti sputtered.

"Aye aye!" Pintel beamed as he headed up the steps behind her.

"Wait for me!" Ragetti stumbled after.

* * *

"Well, Poppet, Are we goin' to-"

"Shh! Shut it!" Elizabeth whispered, her ear to the thin boarded walls.

"Aye, no words," he fumbled with his belt. "We'll speak with our bodies then."

"What?!  _No_ , you idiot!" A flustered Elizabeth pointed to the room next door, "We're pulling a prank on our dearly depraved captain."

"Oh! A prank sounds fun!" Ragetti clapped his hands.

Pintel gave him a withering look. "Not as fun as what  _I_  had in mind. Why? What do I get out of it?"

Elizabeth's fuzzy brain tumbled through options. "Here!" She recalled the satchel at her waist, "I'll give you this earring."

A once-doubtful Pintel now salivated at the small ruby. "Yes M'am! What shall we do?"

"Give him a show," she smirked.

"But," Ragetti thumbed, "he's over there. He won't see anything."

"Let him hear it!" Elizabeth moaned as she pounded the bedframe against the wall. "Like this!"

Both Ragetti and Pintel swallowed their blush.

"C'mon! Harder!" she cried and nodded at them for emphasis.

"Arrrr!" Ragetti yelled gleefully.

"Not like that you bloody-" Pintel whispered. "Ohh!" He groaned out loud as he recounted the shine of the gem.

* * *

Jack had only just removed his shirt when he'd begun hearing the revelry next door. "Dear God, what in the name of-"

"Sounds like they're having fun," Joanne tickled his chin, "should we show them a thing or two?"

Jack tossed his head side to side, debating the issue before leaning in for a kiss. That was when he heard it.

" _Oh! Yes! Yes! Give it to me!_ "

"Elizabeth…" Jack reared back in shock and stared at the adjoining wall.

He should have suspected the sharp slap that hit him on the broad side of his face. He didn't care much for that though. No, he barely even noticed the half-naked woman walking out of his pilfered room as Lizzie's melodious love making filled his ears.  _She wasn't lying before. She said she was going to find someone and she did_. And suddenly he was angry; more angry than he had any right to be at the man who was staking his claim on Elizabeth's body. He exited the already open door and swiftly kicked in that of his neighbor's.

"Listen here, you bloody-" Jack yelled as he watched the three frightened yet familiar faces before him. Elizabeth knelt on the bed while her crewmates both leaned with their fists on opposite walls. His burning eyes looked back and forth between them. "This had better be a rouse."

"Yes, Captain!" Ragetti retracted his hands.

"Of course captain!" Pintel nodded, "It was at the request of the lady!" Jack's eyes flicked to his undone belt. A knot coiled in his stomach.

"Get out." Jack growled, "OUT!"

In a moment the two men were gone without a trace. Elizabeth was about to exit, when Jack trapped her with one arm. "No, not you Miss Swan."

She blinked up at him innocently. "Why? I was only having fun. I'm a free woman you know."

"I told you. It's  _dangerous_."

"That's not for _you_  to decide!"

"Oh, I know." Jack stuck out his bottom lip and nodded his head, "But, you weren't off to have your own fun, were you? You were off to have it at my expense!"

She tried to hide her snicker. "I'm sorry, Jack. Really. I won't do it again."

"Prithee tell me why would you have _need_  to do it in the first place?"

She took a step forward, her voice curious, "And why would you have need to kick down my door?"

They both eyed each other cautiously, seeming to be at a stalemate.

"Because," Jack continued, "you are a member of my crew and I care for you as such."

"Oh, Jack," she put a hand to her heart mockingly.

"So help me, woman," he interrupted, "I'm going to punish you as such."

The drunk flush disappeared from her features, "For what?"

"Being a conspirator against your captain." His smile became a grin, " _Mutiny._ "


	15. Chapter 15

“Kneel.” Jack’s voice became as cold and dispassionate as his features. This was the first time she had seen him without a casual smirk or air of comedy about him. It brought a feeling of ice to her stomach as she found herself lost in the eyes of a fear-inducing pirate captain.

Her voice came out quiet, “Jack- I-”

“Captain.” He reinforced, stepping forward. Her resulting step backward caused her feet to catch on the bed, leaving her arching in an awkward angle.

“C-Captain.” _Damn!_ _Of all the times to stutter…_

“Better.” His eyes traveled up and down her body. She was still draped in borrowed clothes. Young William’s shirt opened slightly in the front from her playful exertions. He couldn’t stand the sight of the fabric; the ties like possessive hands wrapped around her frame, the pants wrongfully touching the warmth of her. “Kneel.”

She relinquished herself to the floor, glancing up at him with a confused yet wary expression. Even on her knees she would not yet submit. Her fiery defiance. His Elizabeth.

As he strode over to the bed and sank into the straw mattress on the frame, Elizabeth noted for the first time that the man was shirtless. She had been too wrapped up in fear, her mind too clouded by liquor to truly realize his state of undress. She had taken him from his bed before he was able to get his pants off. The thought stoked a flame of triumph inside her, though she couldn’t fully comprehend why she’d pulled such a foolish trick.

“Who do you serve under?” Jack glanced down at her.

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to shout ‘no one’ but she knew the answer was folly. Her eyes bore into the floor, seeking an answer that would allow her to walk out of the room with her dignity intact.

“Elizabeth,” Jack placed a ringed forefinger under the crook of her chin, his thumb traced under her lip as her eyes flicked to his. “Who is the captain of your ship?”

She took a breath through her nose, “You.”

“Good answer.” A smile came and went from his features as he examined her. “But, you haven’t been a good girl, have you? You’ve been naughty to your captain.”

“Girl? I’m certainly not a-”

Jack continued, successfully bringing her complaints to a halt, “You’ve intruded on his quarters. Exploited him sexually…”

She flushed, “I never meant to-”

“And!” he spoke in a louder voice, “to add insult to injury, you’ve rallied his own crew against him! Whatever shall I do with you? Shall I lock you in the brig? You would like that Lizzie, wouldn’t you?”

Her face was heated now. She wanted to disappear into the floor boards. She tried to look down once more, but his hand was firmly placed. She swallowed. “No. I’ll be good.”

“Oh, you will. I know you will. After I teach you a lesson.”

“Lesson?” Her brow rose, “I’ll have you know I’m the most educated aboard your ship.”

“Book smart.” His lip quirked for a second. “Alas, your body knows very little. I’ll be- how do they say- _cultivating_ it with my hand.”

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped, her mouth moving with unformed words.

“We’ll start with an elementary method you may have already experienced. Stand up. Drop those awful trousers.”

“I-” Elizabeth’s fists curled.

“Stand.” Jack repeated, his eyes dark and serious. “Bar the door.”

She swallowed as she stood, her face flaming as she walked over and made certain the door was locked. She stepped out of her trousers by that very door.

“No undergarments to impede the view. Lizzie is a terribly naughty girl, isn’t she?”

 _‘Shut it!’_ she wanted to cry, but she bit her tongue.

“Standing all the way over there won’t do. Come here so I can teach you,” he beckoned.

She languidly walked over until her toes met with his. “Here. Right here,” he placed both of his hands in his lap.

She blinked up at him, uncertain. Affronted.  

“Am I to doubt your service?” His face was solemn as he examined her.

She let a growl of frustration escape her as she reluctantly crawled atop his lap, assuming a position she’d only once held in childhood. It was the day she’d ruined her new dress by climbing a palm tree. Her hands rested on Jack’s right thigh as her posterior was aloft over his left. The touch of her oblique to the skin of his midsection sent heat through her. Jack placed a hand on her right bicep as his open palm traveled from the backs of her thighs over her backside and down again. Gooseflesh seemed to raise on its own accord. Anticipation caught in her throat.

“How many do you deserve?” He spoke as his fingers trailed the other leg. She closed her eyes at the sensation, trying to remember her motives for anything anymore. “Elizabeth.” He removed his hand swiftly and she felt exposed to the cold. “How many?”

 “Ten!” She spoke the first number that popped into her head. Somehow she felt impatient to get it over with.

“Ten it is then. I won’t go easy on you. In fact, I think you’d be insulted if I did.” He reared back his hand and Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut as her stomach clenched. “One!”

“Ah!” She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as his hand clapped her backside. She bit down, her hands fisting his pants, unwilling to let him hear her again.

“Two!” She barely had time to take a breath before, “Three!”

_That smarts…_

“Four! Five! Six!”

_Stop hitting the same spot!_

“Seven!”

_When I get off your lap, I’m going to…_

“Eight!”

_No, not there!_

“Nine!”

_Wait. Did that… feel good?_

“Ten!”

A tingling sensation left her curious as to whether he’d tapped her just perfectly between her legs on purpose. _Did his hand slip? He did it on purpose, didn’t he?_ Fresh indignation washed over her already embarrassed face. She stood straight as a board then. “There. I did as asked. Satisfied, _Captain?_ ”

Somewhere along the way a smile had found its way to his face again. “Far from it, Lizzie. But, I’ll let you go.” As he leaned back, she admired the way his tanned muscles chorded to support his weight. “That is, if you want to go.”

“Of course I do!”

“I see. And here I thought you might have been in need of my assistance.”

She squinted, “What are you talking about?”

As Jack moved his fingers together she could see the evidence of her arousal. She gasped in terror as his tongue flickered over them. “My mistake.”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch him. She wanted to… To put that tongue to use and the very thought of it had her feeling the flood between her thighs. Curse him. She’d lost the upper hand. She’d have to figure a way to gain it again. What would it take to humiliate the great Captain Sparrow? “And what if I do?” She crossed her arms.

“Beg your pardon?” Jack’s voice nearly cracked.

“And what if I do?” She leaned forward, her arms still crossed in a way that attractively pressed her bust, “Require your assistance, I mean.”


	16. Chapter 16

Jack’s eyes raked the veritable form before him. This was no dream. Could it be? Was Elizabeth _Bleeding_ Swann as easy as all that? A sinking feeling in his stomach told him there had to be a catch, but he would try his luck. He swallowed against his salivation, the small taste he’d had of her was sweeter than he’d imagined. Heaven help him- he wanted more. “I aim to please, Miss Swann,” he gave a crooked smile.

“You’ve got a rather good track record of it, I hear,” she tilted her head up, brown lidded eyes looking at him from under long lashes. Her plump lips remained open after the statement, revealing teeth that could only result from decades of good breeding. For a moment Jack could feel the sting of unworthiness he’d long fought against. _He could take her_ , he told himself; _he could conquest her just as he had many ladies of upstanding upbringing_. And yet, she was nothing like his former conquests at all. _She was strong. Ambitious. Playful. Cunning. Powerful._ The thought of him using her as a tool set ice in his veins. The thought of fresh tears on her spiteful cheeks, the betrayal in her eyes…

Her knee landed opposite his thigh on the bed, leading her into a straddling position.

“Elizabeth,” he pleaded as he searched her eyes. This needed to stop- before it was too late. “love-”

Her lips crashed against his like a wave upon the rocks. He instinctively opened at the contact, leaving him to the explorations of tongue. Jack panicked in that moment, bringing his hands up to grasp her- to make certain she wouldn’t shackle him to anyone or anything but herself. Once more her kiss had him feeling as if he was stuck in a riptide, taking him further and further from land until he was lost in the sea of her. And just as abruptly, the sea receded. “You, were saying, Jack?” she breathed against his lips.

His arms traveled to her back, effectively pulling her onto his lap as he gave her a taste of the power in his own kiss. She yielded under him beautifully, her flesh malleable, her mouth enthusiastic. It was _good_. Too good, perhaps, to be true. He pulled back, breathing heavily as he brought his forehead to her chin. “We have to stop.”

“Stop?” Elizabeth ground against the hardness of him, drawing an unwitting moan from Jack. “What could make the great Captain Sparrow want to halt his conquest?”

“What?” Jack’s eyes sought hers for understanding.

“Oh, Jack,” she teased as she played with a beaded strand that framed his face, “I _know_ that’s how you look at the women you bed. Another notch in your belt, so to speak.”

“Not with-” His eyes shifted away from hers. His mouth closed, jaw set.

The unexpected seriousness of his tone caused a spike in her heartrate, still she continued. “ _As_ I was saying, I won’t be your conquest.”

He looked to her once more, his eyes fogging with confusion and something foreign.

“But, you could be mine.” She pressed him down to the bed then. He looked up at her with surprise as she brought her lips down on his once more. “Would you like that, Jack?” she trailed kisses down the thickness of his throat, “to be used?”

His breath sped up once more, “Lizzie,” he spoke against the expanding in his chest.

“Tell me, Jack,” she whispered as her thigh rubbed gently against his groin, “do you want to be the notch in a belt for once? Hm?” She kissed him under the shell of his ear, “Would you like to be _my_ dirty, sordid secret?”

He’d never desired and hated something so much as that statement. And for the life of him he couldn’t understand it. The fact was- he’d been many a woman’s dirty, sordid secret. That’s why he’d gotten accustomed to the idea of using women in the first place. But, those words coming from Elizabeth’s perfect mouth… it caused a shame to burn in him he hadn’t felt since adolescence. He sat up swiftly, turning the tables by grasping her wrists. “Never.” He breathed as he examined her expression.

She swallowed cautiously, previously certain that the captain would succumb to her tactic. Now she wasn’t certain of anything at all. “No?” Her voice was quiet. “What would you be? For I won’t be a simple notch.”

“At least we’ll both have our pride, then,” Jack smiled softly, eliciting a laugh from Elizabeth. He gazed away from her in thought, “I suppose something akin to a _lover_ would suffice?” His dark eyes volleyed to her for approval. “A parley, shall we say?”

“What, no marr-i-age?” Elizabeth imitated his pronunciation.

“I _am_ , as I’ve said, the captain of a ship.” His perverse smile returned. “And, as I recall, _Miss Swann_ , you are not very receptive to pursuing such an agreement at this moment. Or… have things changed?”

“Nothing’s changed,” she smiled as she looked him over, “No, nothing at all.” She finished her statement with a soft kiss on his lips that lacked the voraciousness of before. There was almost a tenderness to it. It was something he hadn’t felt in quite some time. Despite the assuredness of her statement, things were changing indeed.

Once more he was carried along in her tide, their bodies rising and falling against each other. Elizabeth sat astride him with naught but a shirt, Jack in naught but his trousers. His hands crept up her sides eagerly, his hungry eyes asking for permission to take the forsaken thing off. She agreed, tossing it forgotten to the floor. She was pale under her shirt with less exposure to the Caribbean sun. Her pink nipples pebbled in anticipation as Jack could no longer restrain himself, suckling as he rolled the other betwixt his finger and thumb. “Jack!” she cried out after some time, grinding desperately for heat hidden beneath his trousers. “Please!” she whimpered.

“Please what?” he spoke as his hands leisurely played with her breasts.

“Take those,” _Ah_ , “off.”

He reluctantly removed himself to comply. “Jack!” she spoke as he lowered his trousers, revealing the gash near his abdominal V. Her hand flew to her mouth, “Are you all right?”

“I’ve weathered worse storms, love,” he gave her a quirked smile. “It’s on the mend.” The angry pink line of scar tissue indeed appeared to be healing.

Her brows furrowed, “That wasn’t from-”

“Shh,” he kissed her, combing her hair from her face, “let’s not speak of the devil, lest he appear. Would make for an awkward meeting.”

Elizabeth laughed, “Jack…” she smiled up at him; her brow troubled, “I just realized that I have no idea what I’m doing.” At the sight of her naked and vulnerable before him, for a second there, neither did he.

“That’s what I’m here for,” He took his seat beside her on the bed, his hand reaching for hers as he brought it up to his lips to impart a kiss. “Lie back.”

Elizabeth did as she was told, her legs modestly pressed together.

“Now, now,” he tutted, “what happened to the woman who was riding me? I want to see you Lizzie, all of you.” She unfurled slowly as his lips traced her inner thigh. Her labia were covered in golden hairs, the pink of her glistening with attraction. “May I taste you?” His rough voice inquired.

She paused for a moment, as if trying to understand the question, then nodded. As soon as he tongue circled her clit, she shuddered. He hummed his approval against her. His mouth sucked at the lips of her as he stuck one finger inside of her in a beckoning motion. She began panting in earnest as his mouth returned to the nub of her, sucking and striking it with his tongue. At this moment, he increased from one finger to two. All the while, Jack was gaining much needed friction by stroking himself against the bed.

“Jack!” Her husky voice declared as her leg shuddered, “Please!”

“Please what, Lizzie?” he spoke as his fingers continued in a scissoring motion.

“I want you inside of me!” she took a hold of his shoulders.

“As you wish,” he smiled as he came up on all fours, his hand then angling himself into position at her entrance. He locked eyes with her once more as she gave him a nod and he filled her slowly, completely.

“Ah!” she moaned at the sensation, arching her body and tilting her head back. He moved within her then, first at a leisurely pace, exploring her body with his hand and mouth. As soon as she was used to it, his pace quickened.

“Kiss me,” Jack's rough voice requested as he felt himself lost in the pleasure that was Elizabeth. She complied, opening herself wider to him as she kissed him fully. Jack’s pressured strokes to her nub sent her spiraling into something she had never before experienced with another person. Her body contracted as if pulling him in, fluttering as visions of colors swam behind her closed eyes. She moaned into his mouth and soon found him moaning into hers as his body grew stiffer, “Lizzie,” his voice sounded pained, “I’m going to cum.” Just as he spoke the words, he withdrew and stroked himself to completion on the linens.

Elizabeth’s eyes went from Jack’s shaft to his face as their labored breathing began to calm and their bodies began to cool. “Thank you,” was all that her husky voice and hazy mind could manage.

Through his exhalations, Jack’s only response was his trademark crooked smile.


	17. Chapter 17

Elizabeth stirred to a now familiar type of headache. The gulls outside were calling and there was something heavy on her midsection nagging at her consciousness. Her eyes suddenly shot open as she recalled the hazy events of the evening. Quick as a flint igniting gunpowder she stumbled out of the bed and stared, bordering on accusation, at one Captain Jack Sparrow. As she stood in the nude, she felt the coldness of the air about her, a stark contrast to the flame of a man still asleep in her bed.  _His_  bed? The inn's bed.  _What had she said? What had she did? What had made her so-_ so _brazen? Had she wanted it? Had she liked it_? With her thoughts of the night's events swirling about in her recovering mind, she had decided that  **yes** , she very much did. But that still left much of their current situation to be understood. He was, as he had demonstrated to her irritation, the captain of the ship. And she was, as she had stated, not just another notch in a long list that she was uncertain Jack bothered to keep. So, what in fact were they?  **Ah** , he'd said it was a  _parley_. An armistice. A truce between warring sides. She could deal with that. As long as he didn't expect anything more. After all, she had just broken apart from her undead, nary present, husband of five years. She felt the stirrings of remorse at that. Some sort of guilt for a promise un-kept. Her heart clenched. All the more reason she had to find him.  _Was he still waiting on her?_ It was hardly likely he could gain access to other people of interest. Yet, she had all the possibilities in the word.  _Would Will expect her to be faithful for decades until the end of time?_ She put herself in his shoes and felt her heart sink. Perhaps he was. But that was Will. He was the boy obsessed with the girl just out of reach. He'd already waited for decades on her and he could wait several more. But she… She was the girl obsessed with… She glanced at the pirate no longer asleep in her bed. His observant, dark eyes startled her.

"Good morning, Miss Swann," Jack spoke slowly, as if to a frightened animal. "I trust you recall the events of the evening?"

Elizabeth swallowed against her dry throat. She wanted to hide her skin but would not show weakness. "I do. And you, Captain?"

A crooked smile came to his blank face at that. "Aye," he glanced down. He looked a tad frightened himself as he found her eyes, "And I trust you have no objects to throw at me or expletives to yell?"

She laughed through her nose, "No, Jack. At least, not at this hour."

An honest smile she'd never seen before now grazed his face, "Good."

She reached for her clothing on the floor. "We should get dressed and find our crew."

His gaze surveyed her swiftly one last time. "Right," he stood, himself absent of clothing.

She was about to avert her eyes when she caught sight of a purpling near his abdominal V.

"See something you like, Lizzie?" Jack inclined his head slowly.

She'd been staring. "No!" she sputtered, affronted, "I mean, Jack, there's something that wasn't there last night. Did I bruise you? It looks awfully strange. Tendrils like ink almost…" Her finger reached out in curiosity before she pulled it back.

He looked down casually once, then again as his eyes grew wide. "That is odd…" He pondered.

"Isn't that," she looked to his face, "isn't that where Blackbeard cut you?"

"Mayhaps," Jack swallowed. "Probably no correlation, love." He swiftly lifted his britches to cover the spot. "You simply kneed me in your sleep."

"You're hiding from me, Jack." Her eyes narrowed as she pressed a finger to his pectorals, "Don't you hide a thing, or this  _parley_  of ours won't work."

He stood in silence for a moment as he examined her serious face.

"He didn't say anything to you as he did it? Something like a curse? The man kept your ship in a bottle. Heavens knows what he could do to a body."

He recalled the words that sank to him as he swam for his life at sea,  _I'll get you for this! You and everyone you've ever loved!_

"No," Jack's pirate lips grew to a thin line, "nothing at all."


	18. Chapter 18

Jack stepped out on deck in the early morning hours, leaving an angel asleep in his bed. Sometimes he wondered if she’d plummeted straight from heaven to the sea at their first encounter. It had been several days now since their rendezvous at port. Their trysts were left to her fiery passion. The previous night was resultant to an argument about the course he’d charted. The girl was skilled at tongue lashing, in all manners of the word. In fact, he thought she quite liked it. Though telling her so would be the death of him. The _Pearl_ was running like clockwork under the new crew. Things were going well. Which often meant, in the world of Captain Jack Sparrow, that they were not.

He’d assumed the roiling in his stomach to be the hidden nature of their affair, or the fact that she was still technically married (albeit to the eunuch). Or how she somehow felt unattainable, even as he thrust in to her eager body. He pressed a hand to the soreness at his side. Aye, _that_ must be the roiling. This was something Elizabeth had not seen, for their affairs had remained quick and clothed. Often they slept in separate quarters to avoid the gossip. He lifted his shirt slightly to admire the strange ink-like tendrils spreading from a wound that should have healed. They now reached to his rib cage, like fingers stretched towards his heart.

“What are you doing?” Elizabeth spoke behind him.

He quickly righted his shirt, dusting it off as an afterthought. “Stain!” he crowed as he turned swiftly, “T’was a stain.” He cleared his throat.

“A… stain?” Elizabeth squinted.

“Nothing to worry about,” he smiled.

“Oh, no?” she circled him, “Then, why are you so pale?”

“So, this” he gestured between them, “ _is_ about appearance, then?” He tutted. “Lizzie, how could you be so shallow?”

“Hah!” Elizabeth laughed, “ _Shallow_ , says the man who’d approach any pretty-little-thing at port.”

“Not when I’ve got such a pretty-little-thing aboard,” Jack wrapped his arms around her waist, examining her softly, “haven’t I?”

She gave him a pained expression. “Jack, I have to ask you…”

“Cap’n!” Joshamee exclaimed as he ascended the stairs.

“Mister Gibbs!” The two stepped apart to examine the interloper.

Joshamee paused and nodded, “Right. I was meanin’ to ask you about our change in plans.”

“Go on, then.”

“Let me get this straight... ‘Was in a bit of a haze last night... We’re going to an island- one you briefly saw on a scrap of paper- which you don’t know the name of, but contains unmeasurable wealth?”

“Precisely,” Jack nodded.

Joshamee’s expression flattened. “Sounds like one of your plans. And here I thought we were sticking to the course Miss Elizabeth had charted with her extensive knowledge on trade routes. Seems like that would be the option with more, shall we say, _certainty_?”

“Save your words, Mr. Gibbs,” Elizabeth crossed her arms and reviewed her choice in lover, “this man is deaf.”

“Come now, you two!” Jack walked towards the helm as they strolled at his heels. “Haven’t I always steered us in the right direction?”

“No.” They answered in unison.

“But,” he held a finger aloft, “haven’t I always managed to deliver said booty?”

The two turned to each other, then shook their heads, “No.”

“Such a supportive crew…”

“Jack,” Elizabeth halted the wheel with her hand atop his, “we _are_ your crew. That’s why we need to know where we’re headed, exactly what we’re getting ourselves into. That’s why I was trying to ask you earlier…”

“No!” Jack interrupted as the blood rushed in his ears. Elizabeth retracted her hand. “As my crew, you are meant to follow the Captain’s orders. Savvy?”

Elizabeth’s eyes grew cold. “Aye, _Captain_.” She looked him over spitefully. “What other use would you have of us?” With that, she turned on her heel and was gone.

“Elizabeth!” Jack took a step forward, then stopped himself.

“Go after her!” Joshamee encouraged. “Lest you want the deck to freeze over.”

“No, Mister Gibbs,” Jack sighed. “I’m a bloody bilge rat. Not at all like the man in her head. High time she realized that.”

Joshamee shook his head in dissension. “Aye, yer a bilge rat. But, only if you allow yerself to be.”

* * *

 

Elizabeth returned to her quarters, slamming the door behind her. “ _Arsehole!_ ” She exhaled before sliding down the wood paneling behind her. She sunk her hands into her hair. Maybe she was wrong to establish this _parley_. Maybe she should have never slept with that heinous man. She sighed as her hands played with her tangles. No, that was the only thing that had felt right in a long while. But, he was hiding something. She could see it in the corner of his crinkled eyes: he was hurting. She hadn’t been able to look at that wound on his stomach, but she doubted very much it to be a bruise. Catching him the morning confirmed it. _Just what did it look like? Where were they headed?_ She knew in her heart these things were connected. _He was scared._ That was it. But his fear was self-motivated. Once again Jack Sparrow was only out for himself. She felt a hot tear land on her thigh at that thought. _Why was she crying? Why should she care?_ It wasn’t like she _loved_ the man. It was mutual attraction and consensual satisfaction at best. These were perfectly logical feelings to have. _Where did love fit into all of this?_ She wiped her face on her sleeve and steeled herself. _Decidedly, it did not._


	19. Chapter 19

“Elizabeth.” Jack acknowledged her as she stood in the galley several cold nights later.

“Captain.” Her response was just as clipped. 

Somehow, some way, he had lost her. Then again, how could one lose what they never had? It seemed to be his way with females. Nary a one had stayed doting for long. He ought to be used to it by now. It shouldn’t bother him that her caramel eyes no longer held a spark of lust. No kisses were hidden in the corners of her smile. He’d never had her. No. Not even when she lay in his arms in the afterglow. He suddenly felt the need to justify his intrusion. “Just grabbing a drink, lo- Lizzie.” He corrected as he reached for the cabinet behind her.

“Of course, _Captain_.” Her eyes stay upon him as she stood her ground and he had to reach around her. Careful. Ever so careful as to not brush her skin.

“Will that be all?” She spoke as he pulled the bottle slowly over her shoulder.

He looked at the rum, then to her. “Would you care to…?”

She looked not at the rum, but over his person. “Certainly not.”

Something in her appraisal left him bleeding. “Elizabeth,” he grabbed her wrist as she turned to go. She did not look at him as he spoke. “Lizzie,” he floundered to come up with any words sans her name.

She swiftly retracted her hand from his. “You have no further need of me. I bid you good day.”

He watched her walking towards the steps. “That isn’t true, and you _know it_!” expelled from his lungs.

Her perfect face angled over her shoulder. “What is it, then?”

Jack struggled, “…What is what?”

She turned fully towards him. “What is it you need of me?”

His eyes glanced downward.

She scoffed, “Right,” as she turned towards the stairs.

“I need ** _you_** , dammit.” He abandoned the bottle on the counter as he made his plea.

“Me?” she snorted, “Whatever for? Haven’t you gotten everything you ever wanted? The _great_ Captain Jack Sparrow?”

He took a step towards her, “As I’ve told you before on that slip of an island, I’m only as great as the fortunes afforded to me. And somehow… Somehow I’ve lost the fortune of your favor.”

“Pity.” She eyed him coldly. “When we arrive to the destination you’ve charted I’m sure you’ll find new friends to favor you.”

“That’s **not** fair.”

“That’s an awfully childish statement, _Captain_.”

“Just who is being the _child_ here, _hm?_ ”

Their breath mingled hot on one another, bringing feverish memories in its wake that neither could shake. So, they turned.

“Can you think of any reason, Jack,” she spoke as she faced away, “that I might be acting this way? Perhaps something you might have done?”

He remained silent for a moment. “Aye.”

Hope sparked within her.

“You wish it hadn’t happened.”

“What?” She turned to him.

“You wish you’d stayed safe with Will, don’t you? You wish you never departed from your life of decency. You can’t even bear to look at the mistake you made, now, can you?”

“How dare you!” Her cheeks flared, “You haven’t the slightest idea how I feel!”

“Oh, I’d say I got it, all right.” He took a hold of the bottle. “Loud and clear.”

“If you truly think that’s the reason… you’re more of a fool than I’d thought.” She looked at him once more before climbing the steps, “Good bye, Jack.”

The words he’d heard many-a-time before. Yet he’d never quite felt them until now.

* * *

 

“Put your backs into it you scurvy dogs!” Mister Gibbs called in the salty morning air. Elizabeth assisted in directing the ship through a dangerous passage as the crew turned the rudder and adjusted the sails.

“Shouldn’t the Cap’n be the one givin’ orders?” Ragetti looked between her and Pintel.

“I reckon he’ll be nursing a wicked headache after imbibing in the rum last night.” Pintel nodded, “somethin’ or some _one_ must have set ‘im off.”

They both turned their heads towards her.

“ _Me_?! What on Earth would suggest to you that I’m the one responsible?”

“Poppet,” Pintel snorted, “why _wouldn’t_ you be?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Haven’t seen you so cold towards someone since I found you in that cupboard.”

Elizabeth shuddered, “Don’t remind me.”

“Did the captain do something wrong?” Ragetti raised his brows in concern.

“The question is _what_ did he do wrong, you nitwit.” Pintel tapped him in the stomach.

They both looked at her again.

“Ugh. I have nothing to say to you two.”

As she turned she heard Pintel call, “Have to talk to somebody sometime!”

“Gets awful lonely otherwise,” was Ragetti’s reply.

* * *

 

Awful lonely indeed. As the days wore on she wondered about the captain’s disappearance. Though they were getting closer to the unknown island, his presence on deck was sorely lacking: Leaving murmurings amidst the crew. She wondered if this was how he found himself stranded once before. Was it some other girl before, some other time and place? She ignored the drop in her stomach. _She didn’t care_ , she reminded herself, _none of that mattered_. Yet, somehow she’d found herself just around the corner from his quarters in the middle of the evening.

“Captain,” Mister Gibbs knocked on the door. He waited a few minutes for the response that never came. With a sigh and the shake of his head he strode onward, into someone he hadn’t expected. “Miss Elizabeth…” His eyes were wide.

“I’m sorry Mister Gibbs, I get restless at night. Didn’t mean to obstruct your path. I’ll be going now.”

“Wait…” The old man held up his hand. “I know ‘tis not my place to ask, but… The Captain’s never been in this sorry of a state, ye see. Before he’s been drunk on deck, but I’m fearin’ for the worst when he doesn’t show his face. I’m thinkin’ if it were you that opened that door maybe he’d gain some interest in fresh air… That is, if you feel so inclined as to-“

“All right,” Elizabeth sighed, “I’ll do it. I must admit I am a bit worried. I haven’t seen him make a fool of himself in far too long.”

Mister Gibbs gave her a weak but thankful smile as he clasped her hand. “I’ll be right behind ye, if need be."

Elizabeth put her ear against the door. Nothing. She gave a knock. “Jack?” She questioned, to no avail. “I’m coming in.” She opened the door to see the man sprawled out on his desk. “Jack!” She held her hand to her mouth as adrenaline rushed her forward. She shook his shoulder. _It was just a drunken stupor, it had to be_. He gave a weak groan as he turned his head. “What in Heaven’s…” she began as she saw the inky tendrils climbing up his throat. “Jack!” She stepped back in horror, “ _What have you done?!_ ” She turned to the door, “Mister Gibbs! _Mister Gibbs!_ ”

 The man came rushing in, his mouth gaping at the sight. “Praise be…”

“Grab him under the arms. Help me move him to the bed,” she directed.

“What could this be?”

“I’ve seen something like this on him before, the black spot.” She ripped open his shirt down the middle, assessing the area in question. “A curse,” she murmured as she saw the darkened flesh emanating from his wound all the way up his torso. “You fool,” her eyes pricked, “ _you complete and total fool!_ ” She swallowed the bile in her throat. “Mister Gibbs, he was cursed by Blackbeard. He’s charted a course to the only solution he could come up with. Check his maps on the table.”

Joshamee poured over the papers for clues. “Nothing but a word, A _gua de vida_ , what in blazes is that?”

“The Water of Life.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Unbelievable. If he wasn’t dying right now, I swear I would strangle him!”

She heard the man in question cough out a laugh. “You never did like me much, did you, Lizzie?”

“You insufferable…” She clenched and unclenched her fists. Took in a deep breath and released. “Why must you always be so selfish? This,” she gestured, “ _This_ was why I stopped talking to you in the first place. Not because of some misguided attempt at saving my _dignity_.” Her voice cracked. “It’s because I care too much! I care that I’m being lied to by someone that I-!”

His cough was wet as he examined her eyes.

“Don’t you die on me, you hear?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “The last time it happened it nearly tore my soul apart!”

“Aye, Lizzie.” He swallowed. “I hear you... Loud and clear.”


	20. Chapter 20

He was adrift at sea, arm around a barrel for support as the waves tossed him ashore. Bedraggled, he sputtered up saltwater and stumbled, one foot in front of the other, to lay on land and heave safe breaths. The world spun as he observed the fading sunlight, a small fire to his left.

“How did you ever survive this place?” came from his right.

He turned his head to see a younger Elizabeth, her skin still light from her time indoors, her tousled hair just gaining a golden tint from days in the sun. Her broad, curious smile. A spark in her eyes. _Ah_. A dream he’d often had. A dashed opportunity, if she’d ever given him one. He’d wished he could woo the girl before she fell for another. And though he had confidence in his ability to do so, it was the first time he felt uncertain if he should. For, what could he offer in return sans his body and broken promises? And many a time he had asked himself, why _should_ he care? And after she had shackled him to the mast, he wondered, how _could_ he care? Yet, when she crossed oceans to find him, when she looked at him just this _very_ way as she had so many years before, he marveled, in what world could he not?

His eyes opened once more to find her asleep across his chest as if monitoring his heart. He’d gone and done it now. And no jar of dirt could save him. _Selfish_ , she called him. Aye. He was that. But, what else could one be when they were raised to fend for themselves? When they were raised without mothers, with absentee fathers and a constant hunger in their bellies. He swallowed, recalling the thirst now. How should he have known that he could trust another when he’d been a pirate nearly all his life? Trust. Somehow he should have known. Trust Lizzie to unravel his secrets and make him bare. For she was the only one who truly had in every sense of the word. He knew now. He **loved** her. And that scared him more than the lines at his throat.   

When Jack awoke he heard a clap of thunder. Storms at sea, never a bit of good news. Can’t a man die in peace? He sat bolt upright, ready to prepare the crew for the worst when he remembered that he should be preparing for that himself. He ran his hands over his person as if to check for the pains that had abandoned him in his slumber. “Ha _-ha!_ ” Jack crowed when he noted a distinct lack of tendrils on his person. “Old Blackbeard must be getting rusty as his sword. Lizzie,” he turned to her sleeping form, “wake up, Li-” as he shook her he saw the lines across her chest. The sight caused him to tumble back in horror. “No…” His wide eyes observed. “Can’t be…” He took in a breath. “Lizzie,” he shook her once more, “Lizzie!” He pulled his hand back from her clammy form. “Think Jack,” he breathed, “think! What did he say when he cursed you? There must be a clue…” He wagged his finger. “I’ll get you… and anyone you’ve ever…” His back slammed into the wall though he hadn’t realized he’d been walking backwards. _He’d cursed her_. This was all _his_ doing. **This** was the power his love had wrought. The first time he loved anyone in his wretched life and he’d doomed her for all eternity. **No**. He couldn’t let that happen. “I do _not_ love you. I do. NOT. Love you. **_No_**.”

“Jack?” he heard her croak.

“Lizzie,” he rushed forward and grabbed her hand. “You were right. I was selfish. Berate me. Shackle me to the mast again, maybe I can sort it all out from-“

“What are you talking…” she coughed, the ink rising on her throat and expectorating in shades of crimson and obsidian. She examined the blood on her hands and looked to him in terror. “What have you done?”

“Lizzie,” his brows furrowed, “he said he’d come after anyone I ever loved…” He knelt as he grabbed her hand, “Hate me. Tell me I’m a fool. Send me to Davy Jones’ locker. Spit on me. **_Anything!_ ** Anything to make this forsaken feeling stop…”

A tear fell from her eye as she examined him fully. “I _can’t_ …”

The rumbling outside grew as waves crashed against the hull and winds blew.

“Captain!” Joshamee burst through the doors.

“Mister Gibbs,” he shifted to face him.

“Captain…” Joshamee startled as he examined the healthy man standing before him, “Praise be- I thought he’d come for you…”

“Who?” Jack inclined his head.

Joshamee remained silent.

Jack's voice came more sternly, “Who had, Mister Gibbs?”

The old man swallowed, his eyes drifting from Elizabeth. “Mister Turner.”


	21. Chapter 21

“Jack!” Will Turner opened his arms upon the sight of his old friend on deck. “When I saw the _Pearl_ I wondered if it was you I came for.”

“That’s the problem, mate.” Jack winced, “You’ll want to rethink your form of greeting when you find out just who it is you came for.”

Will’s brow furrowed as he took a step forward. “Where is she?”

Jack’s lips became a thin line as he looked towards the captain’s quarters.

“Elizabeth!” William called as he kicked open the door.

“Will?” Elizabeth questioned weakly as she turned towards the noise.

“Elizabeth…” he sunk to his knees beside her, perceiving with his hands and eyes, “what has happened to you?”

“Ten years is a long time, Will.” A tear trailed her pallid face.

“A lifetime without you.” He brushed it away.

She caught his hand and held it in her own. “People change.”

“They do,” he examined her wistfully. “But, you’ve been this person for a while now. Even if you didn’t know it. Even if I didn’t want to see it.”

Her lip quivered. “How so?”

“You’ve always been strong and it was wrong of me to expect you to bear being alone at home. Waiting. You fought with a sword, lead the pirates; became a goddess at sea. How could I expect you to leave that freedom behind? But, we can both sail the oceans now. Together.” He held out his hand.

“All my life,” she shook her head, “all my life I’ve been told what to do. Be proper. Marry the commodore. Stay put. Be a dutiful wife. Can’t you see? Any time I’m not given a choice, it ends in glorious failure. Here it seems I haven’t a choice as well.”

“Of course you do,” Will observed.

“And what would that be, sail oceans of time with you or towards my own oblivion?”

“Elizabeth,” Will retracted his hand, his voice faint, “don’t you want to sail with me?”

“No, Will,” another tear escaped her eye, “I don’t.”

He took a breath in through his nose and stood up. “Jack.”

“Will, no… It’s not his fault,” Elizabeth coughed as her departed husband walked out the door, “Will!”

“You did this.” Will approached, clenching and unclenching his fist.

“Aye,” Jack replied as he somberly stood his ground. “I did.”

The resulting punch gave a wet sound against Jack’s rain-slickened skin.

“You’ve murdered her!” Will spat amidst the thunder. “You've known she was infatuated with you for some time, and you fanned the flame to suit your own twisted agenda! That’s **right** , Jack. I saw her kiss you. I could have ignored that. I could have forgiven the sordid things that I know, with _absolute certainty_ , you did to her in my absence. I could have overlooked them all if she was safe. If she were truly happy. With time I could even grow to accept that. But, _this_ ,” he gestured back to the captain’s quarters, “this is beneath even _you_.”

Jack hung his head for a beat as the waves rocked the boat. “I can fix this.”

“You what?”

“I can fix this.”  Jack lifted his head, “ _Agua de vida_ , it’ll make her well again.”

“You haven’t the time, Jack. You seem to forget who is aboard your ship this very instant. I’ve come to collect. And I won’t leave until I have... I can’t.”

“ _Exactly_.” Jack pressed himself up. “You don’t have to. Just stay aboard the ship while I get the _Agua de vida_ , and all will be right as rain.”

Will squinted, “You’re mad.”

“I’m serious.” Jack’s eyes locked on him. “Give her a choice, Will,” he pled. “She deserves it.”

Will breathed out through his nose. “You make me sick.”

“I’m not hearing a no…” Jack rolled his fingers.

“Do as you please.” Will shook his head. “Then again, you don’t need me to tell you that.” He turned, “You always have.”

Jack swallowed as he brought his hand in towards his chest. He’d never been one to care about sidestepping boundaries, but the reaction from Will had him feeling a drop in his stomach. And yet, he knew young Mister Turner was wrestling himself most of all. For the woman he chose was no man’s property and the boy knew this from the moment he lay eyes upon her. As for Elizabeth’s state of affairs, _aye_ , Jack blamed himself entirely. For the first time in his life he felt responsible for something, and it was **dreadful**. He would make it right. He had to. Even if it killed him.

* * *

 

Jack reached into the chest at the foot of his bed in his quarters. From which, he withdrew two gleaming chalices. He examined them before stashing them in a pouch at his belt.

Elizabeth turned her head. “Where are you… going?”

He approached her, smoothing a broad hand over her fretted brow. “I’m going to make this right, Lizzie.”

Her dark eyes looked up to him. “How?”

“Never you mind that, love.” The word stopped him cold, sending a shiver down his spine. **Love**. Love was what had condemned her.

She snorted faintly at his response. “Careful Jack, or people will think you like me.”

He gave a brief smile before he leaned in to kiss her, “How absurd.”


	22. Chapter 22

Jack captained a small rowboat manned with the (mostly) trusted crew of Mister Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, and himself. The four men soon docked on the unnamed island, somewhere adrift in the Caribbean Sea.

“ _Agua de Vida_ , Captain?” Mister Gibbs queried as he rowed, “Is it really going to work?”

“Juan Ponce de León called it the _Fountain of Youth_ ,” Jack confirmed. “The Profane Ritual will bring her back.” He surveyed the shores, “It has to.” He took a breath through his nose, “We’re looking for an archaic symbol, it should be carved at the cave entrance of the Fountain. I’ve seen it only once, on a scrap of the Mao Kun Map.”

“Ah, a scrap. Of course.” Mister Gibbs rolled his eyes, “This bodes well.”

“And, is this Juan guy… Is he _dead_?” Ragetti piped up.

"Aye,” Jack nodded, “but he died searching for something, didn't he?"

 “I see.” Ragetti sighed, “I was hoping that ship would be him.” The thin pirate nodded towards the horizon.

“Ragetti, you idiot!” Pintel dropped his oar as he stood on the sand, “We know that ship! That’s the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_!”

“Right on schedule.” Jack noted.

“You _knew_?” Pintel and Ragetti’s spoke in unison. Pintel’s face scrunched, “You knew that devil was comin’ after ye?”

“Aye,” Jack nodded. “He’s been trailing us for days. Perhaps we can strike up a deal. After all, _I’m_ the only one who knows the way.”

* * *

 

Jack knew the Fountain lay through the dense jungle, past treacherous Jungle Pools _._ How did he know this? The _Black Pearl_ had once sailed these waters questing for gold. A port nearby was where he learned about the Fountain from a drunken descendant of Ponce de León's. After that, it didn’t take much effort to hoist navigational charts from ol’ Hector. The bastard had intended to find the Fountain himself. Though Jack had not _exactly_ made it to the other side…

“Sparrow.” Blackbeard spat as his crew docked the rowboat ashore. “Thought you’d be dead by now.”

“That makes two of us,” Jack shriveled his nose.

Blackbeard cracked a sly smile. “Has the great Captain Sparrow found a whore to love?” He and his crew gave a laugh. “Have you thanked her for carrying your curse yet? Not much time left, I fear.”

Jack’s nails bit into his palm, he slowly released his fist to carry on his charade. “Nay,” he tilted his head, “Seems your cursed sword doesn’t work right.” He glanced the man over, “Must be old age.”

Blackbeard bared his yellow teeth in disgust, which he turned into a grin. “You know what, Jack? I’m **glad** you’re alive. You’ll be leading us exactly where we want to go.”

“Why?” Jack shrugged, “What’s in it for me?”

“Do you have to ask?” Blackbeard looked bored, “The survival of your beloved.”

“I already told you mate,” Jack leaned forward, “there’s no finer lady than me _Pearl_. Think again.”

“Why exactly _are_ you here, Jack?”

“ _Infamy_ ,” Jack gestured outward with his hands.

Blackbeard snorted. “Fine, then. I will not kill you.”

“Ah, you see, I’ve already got that leverage. You seem to forget: you need me.”

Blackbeard sighed, “I’ll give you the location of a treasure that will undo any curse- since you seem to find yourself riddled with them.” He looked the Captain. “That shiny enough to attract your attention?”

“Perhaps.” Jack stroked his chin, “Although I do find myself curse-free at the moment. Give me the coordinates and I’ll lead the way.”

“No.” Blackbeard grinned.

“Then I’m getting back on me ship. Come on, lads.”

Blackbeard stuck out his sword. “Will the name of the nearest island suffice?”

Jack mulled it over. “Aye,” he smiled. “That’ll do.”

* * *

 

Blackbeard and four of his crew were more knowledgeable about the ritual than Jack would have liked. They’d already found a mermaid at Whitecap Bay. Syrena, her name was. They later took a tear from her at the Jungle Pools. Seeing ladies cry was never to Jack’s taste, even if they were _mer_ ladies. Having the route to the Fountain of Youth memorized, Jack searched through the jungles to find the cave entrance to the Fountain. After probing many huge palm fronds, he spotted a water droplet travelling up on one of the leaves, defying gravity. He watched it as it crawled upward, then started toying with it between his fingers. Squinting through the droplet, Jack spotted a rock wall with the archaic symbol of the Fountain carved on it. The droplet broke free of Jack's finger and floated upward just as Jack found the cave entrance.

“Here we are, gentlemen.” Jack stood back and examined the cave. “Now all we have to do is enter.” The grotto held a ruined stone temple, vines pulling it down and tearing it apart. Within its sacred chamber, exotic creepers and clinging moss covered ancient skeletons that littered the stone steps, and a delicate stream of enchanted water flowed through a natural stone circle at the center. He looked down at the golden chalices he had gathered, hoping they would somehow speak to make the water appear. _Work!_ He thought, _**Work** , damn you!_ In an unsuccessful attempt to gain entrance into the Fountain he hit the chalices against one another. He paused for a moment; then clanged them again.

“Jack,” Blackbeard snarled, “You’ve never actually been to the Fountain in person, have you?” He slowly withdrew his sword. “Seems we no longer have need of you then, do we?”

Jack struggled for a reason to hold the lummox off. He looked at the chalices intently as if they could stop the blade. “Wait!” He held up a hand as everyone held their breath, “there’s something here,” he sounded out the words inscribed on the Chalices: " _Aqua de Vida_." Upon his incantation, water rose up along the walls, collecting into a pool above their heads. The men looked up in awe and terror. Jack had one thing on his mind at that moment, _Elizabeth_. He had to get inside. He had to try. He handed Mister Gibbs the chalices as he climbed onto Pintel’s unwitting shoulders, where he used his sword to poke the pool gingerly. The water swallowed him and for an instant, he remembered what it was like to be drowning until he appeared into a misty environment. Jack took a breath, picked up his sword from the ground. He knew he was staring at the Fountain of Youth.

* * *

 

What Jack did _not_ know was at that King Ferdinand of Spain had sent the Spaniards to find the Fountain as well. King George II had sent Hector Barbossa, now a privateer of the court, to find the Fountain before the Spanish. What Jack had mistaken for one ship tailing the _Pearl_ , was actually two. 

Jack walked up to the central stone, reaching to touch the water. But, before Jack had the chance, Blackbeard held him back. “I’ll be the first to drink from its waters,” he instructed with a cold glint in his eye. “Only then will I give you the coordinates.”

“Aye,” Jack nodded, unwilling to start a fight when he was so close to a resolution.

“Captain!” Mister Gibbs called out as Jack turned around to see unwanted visitors emerging out of the fog. _Ah, there was a sight for sore eyes_. Walking forth was a one-legged man with a penchant for apples: Hector Barbossa.

"This land is hereby forever claimed in the glorious name of His Majesty, King George—" As soon as the soldier opened his mouth, he was shot and killed.

Barbossa paused to admire the damage, then spoke, "...Someone make a note of that man's bravery. Well, well, fancy seeing you hear Jack. Should have expected it, seeing as you stole my maps."

Jack gave an uncomfortable smile in acknowledgement. Things were getting complicated. As usual.

Barbossa stepped forward with his crew to confront Blackbeard. “Edward Teach, you are now a prisoner of His Majesty, King George for crimes committed against the crown. Of which include the taking of one _very_ important leg.” Barbossa pulled out his sword.

Blackbeard mirrored his efforts and ordered, “Attack!”

Jack felt as if he were caught in the waves, bursting between the parties, crawling towards the Fountain until he noticed the crews were breaking the temple apart. “Stop the fight!” He hollered and all the men turned to look at the Captain on his knees. Jack stood slowly, brushing off. “Why don’t we let those two blaggards fight it out, hm? We can just laid back, watch, have a drink- place wagers. Savvy?” His words were to no avail, as the fighting commenced and the two captains engaged in a duel to the death. While the crews were engaged, Pintel and Ragetti were able to pilfer the vial with the mermaid's tear.

Blackbeard and Barbossa continued their duel, in which the notorious pirate was able to trip the privateer to the ground. An infuriated Blackbeard was about to finish Barbossa off, but wasn't able to get that chance, as Barbossa pointed with a grin, “Seems we have visitors.”

From out of the fog, The Spaniard and his men arrived. Jack counted on his fingers, not two ships, but _three!_ The fighting ceased as more Spanish soldiers surrounded the British and the pirates around the Fountain.

"Only God can grant eternal life,” The leader of the Spanish army declared, “not this pagan water. Men! Destroy this profane temple!"

As the Spanish began destroying the temple, pulling down the columns with grappling hooks, the Spaniard confronted Blackbeard. “You are a _fool_ for seeking in the Fountain what only faith can provide.”

“Let’s test that claim,” Blackbeard debunked as he slit the man’s throat. Through his distraction, the mighty captain felt a searing pain in his belly. He looked down to see a retreating sword. One poisoned by the innards of dart frogs.

“You-” Blackbeard gasped his last, before falling to the stone floor.

“Aye,” Barbossa grinned as he wiped the sword of blood, “ _Me_.”

Jack looked on, eyes wide in surprise. There was a sudden and overwhelming terror in knowing that he couldn’t supply Blackbeard with the chalice that takes life in order to give life to Elizabeth.

Accomplishing what he’d set out to do, Barbossa took Blackbeard's sword as his own and turned to tip his hat, “May we not meet again, Jack.”

“Dually noted.” Hector always managed to waltz in and ruin whatever plans he had to save his own backside. Now he’d managed to ruin a perfectly good scheme to save the _magnificent_ backside of a woman dying aboard his ship.

Jack turned once more towards the water. As the Spanish struggled with a large column, Blackbeard's loyal zombies fought against them. The large column soon fell, crushing them along with the Fountain of Youth.

“ _No!_ ” Jack cried, rushing forward.

With their mission for King Ferdinand completed, the Spanish gave the sign of the cross, leaving the ruins.

Jack pulled the stone rubble from the destroyed Fountain, “There has to be some left, there has to…”

Pintel and Ragetti approached with the tear and Mister Gibbs knelt with the chalices. All were surprised when Jack was able to gather two cups of water before it dried up.


	23. Chapter 23

  _Infamy_ , idiocy more the like. His impulsive nature was the thing that had cursed her in the first place. That was why it was his responsibility to make things right. For her. It was the first time the word had entered the captain’s vocabulary, and he found it very cumbersome indeed. Though he would carry the weight gladly, considering the alternative. Jack held the chalices tightly in hand as the crew began to row back to the Pearl. Their mood was jovial, ignorant of the fact that they would soon be losing their captain. He wondered if that would dampen their spirits one bit.

 “Ye did it Cap’n!” Mister Gibbs clasped his friend on the back, “Somehow ye managed to pull through, ye salty sea dog. I’m certain Miss Elizabeth and Mister Turner will be much obliged.”

 “Certainly,” Jack flashed a cocky smile before turning his gaze to the sea.

 Pintel and Ragetti looked at each other briefly. One didn’t get through years of piracy without developing a sixth sense about schemes. Something was amiss. Something regarding the chalices that weigh heavy in their captain’s palms.

* * *

 

“You really found it, Jack?” William looked inquiringly at the chalices, then to the man in question.

 “Never doubt the greatest pirate in all of history,” Jack sauntered over to the young captain of the _Dutchman_.

 Will looked utterly unimpressed. “Get on with it, then. Save Elizabeth.”

 Jack held up a chalice in gesturing William to move aside. “If you’ll be so kind.”

 Will begrudgingly stepped away from his guard at the door to the captain’s quarters, following Jack inside.

 Elizabeth herself looked as if she were a bruise. Jack’s throat grew tight, his chest even tighter. It would be all right. Everything would be all right. Soon. “I’ve got your medicine, Lizzie,” Jack’s voice trailed off as he sat on a packing crate beside her.

 Her head lolled wearily to the side. Through the pain, she smiled. “Took you long enough.”

 He marveled at her strength. “Bottom’s up.” He toasted, providing the life-giving chalice to the girl who had truly given him life in this short while. Her dry throat swallowed eagerly.

 She paused a moment. “I suppose it takes a while to work,” her titter turned into a cough.

 “Should take effect soon enough,” Jack smiled as his thumb traced the back of her hand and he held the life-taking chalice to his lips.

 “ **WAIT**!” Ragetti stepped forward, “There’s something off with the chalice!”

 “Aye!” Pintel barked, “I think so too!”

 A slow murmur built amidst the on-looking crew.

 “Jack?” Will moved beside Elizabeth, “What’s he talking about? …What have you done?”

 “Haven’t done anything yet, mate.”

 “ _Yet?_ ” Will placed a hand protectively on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

 “Jack?” Elizabeth’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

 “He’s fittin’ to give his life fer yers, Miss Elizabeth,” the room turned to look at Joshamee. Jack’s eyes grew wide, then accusing. “ _Aye_ , yer not so good at hidin’ things as I’ll have you believe. Figured the lady should know.” Joshamee crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “After all, shouldn’t she have a _choice_ in the matter?”

 Jack turned slowly towards his ladylove. Her face was heartbroken, as he had feared. “I told you, Jack, not again.” Tears formed in her eyes, “Don’t do this to me _._ ”

 “Shh,” Jack spoke soothingly as he held her hand, “Come now, Lizzie, I’ve been ready for this for a long time now. Why, I’d have taken on Will’s position given the chance.” He looked at the man briefly, “Maybe I can. Maybe we can trade places and I can boot him off the _Dutchman_ for ye, ay? Then things will be as they could have been.”

 “Don’t say that,” Elizabeth shook her head. “Don’t talk about could. I spent five years awake and wondering, and you know what that accomplished? Absolutely nothing.” She worked her dry lip. “ _This_ ,” Elizabeth grabbed his hand, “This is the way it is, as it occurred little by little; built piece by piece. Things unfurled, as they should have. And now I’m not letting go.”

 Jack breathed through his nose, “Yer a stubborn one. You know that?”

 “Tell me something I haven’t heard.”

 “I’m afraid this time I haven’t the luxury of providing you what you deserve. Either I don’t drink and you leave with Will, or I do. Nobody wins. Either of us end up with a eunuch.”

 “ _I beg your par_ -”

 “Perhaps there’s another way?” Ragetti interrupted.

 Curious eyes landed on the skinny pirate.

 “Ye know, we all helped in gaining that water. What I’m saying is- just like any other booty- we share the wealth, so to speak?”

 “Ragetti,” Pintel spoke in awe, “Ye don’t know what yer sayin’…”

 “I think I do,” he spoke defiantly. “Why, if it weren’t fer Miss Elizabeth we’d still be stuck on that awful zombie ship. Dead by Blackbeard’s hand, likely. What's a few years in exchange for that?”

 “Aye,” Joshamee agreed. “We all gave our lives to piracy, didn’t we? And she is the pirate king.” Several crewmembers mumbled in agreement.

“And if I have any matter of a life left,” Will brushed the hair from her cheek, “it’s yours Elizabeth... It always has been.”

“All right, all right!” Pintel threw his hands up. “Enough of this fluff, pass the cup around already.” Ragetti looked at his mate in approval. Jack took the largest sip first, followed by Will, then Mister Gibbs, then Ragetti and Pintel. Even a few new recruits gingerly sipped the water.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth’s voice was choked with tears. “Thank you all so much. I promise, I will spend all the time that I have left finding a way to make it up to you.”

“How about making it up as their leader?” Jack leaned forward, “Shall we captain the _Pearl_ together?”

“Would be an improvement,” Pintel nodded offhandedly.

Jack squinted, “I’ve never liked you, have I?” Then he turned back to Elizabeth, “What say you, Lizzie?”

“Jack,” Elizabeth spoke as the peachy hue returned to her skin, and blush to her cheeks, “are you absolutely certain that she’ll want to share?”

He looked her over as the sheen returned to her lips and a bounce to her bosom as she sat up. His mouth grew dry. “I’m not absolutely certain that _I_ want to.”


End file.
